


Renegade

by sarriathmg



Series: Dick Grayson as Renegade AU [1]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Teen Titans (Animated Series), Teen Titans (Comics), Teen Titans - All Media Types, Titans (TV 2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Teen Titans (Animated Series) Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, BAMF Dick Grayson, Begging, Bottom Jason Todd, Chains, Cock Warming, Crying, Dark Dick Grayson, Dark!Dick Grayson, Dick Grayson as Slade Wilson's Apprentice, Dick Grayson is Not Nightwing, Dick Grayson is Renegade, Dick took Slade's offer to become his apprentice, Enemies to Lovers, Extremely Dubious Consent, Falling In Love, Gags, Hentai, Hurt Jason Todd, Imprisonment, Jason Todd Needs A Hug, Jason Todd is Robin, Kidnapped Jason Todd, Kidnapping, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Moral Ambiguity, NSFW Art, Non-Consensual Bondage, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Character Death, Pining, Possessive Dick Grayson, Power Imbalance, Punishment, Restraints, Rope Bondage, Sex Toys, Slow Burn, Sounding, Stockholm Syndrome, Top Dick Grayson, Underage Rape/Non-con, Unhealthy Relationships, Verbal Humiliation, Vibrators, Voyeurism, happy but not exactly healthy, hints of Slade/Terra, past Dick/Kori - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-18
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:28:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 10
Words: 96,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23196307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarriathmg/pseuds/sarriathmg
Summary: It’s been five years since Robin vanished with Starfire’s body. And it's only the second time Jason went on a mission with the Teen Titans when he was snatched away by Defiance.Waking up in an unfamiliar place and held against his will, Jason Todd was about to learn something of the former Robin that no one had ever learned. It would all begin with the mysterious man named Renegade.Or: The one where Dick Grayson took Slade’s offer to become his apprentice and Jason got caught in the crossfire.This fic now has acomic version!
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Raven, Dick Grayson & Slade Wilson, Dick Grayson/Jason Todd, Jason Todd/Joseph Wilson, and minor - Relationship
Series: Dick Grayson as Renegade AU [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1696876
Comments: 154
Kudos: 504
Collections: Fifty Shades of Dark Grayson





	1. Renegade

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [【Dickjay】【图文】Renegade-变节者](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22691293) by [sarriathmg](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarriathmg/pseuds/sarriathmg). 



> ✋Watch your back!✋🔞This story contains NSFW art!!🔞
> 
> In this setting (kinda 2003-Teen-Titans-esque) , Robin (Dick Grayson) took Slade's offer to become his apprentice, and it's a dark!Dick au that I'm obsessed over. A lot of the setting will be directly taken from the cartoon, and from the comic canon if it’s something that the show didn’t address (like the entirety of Jason’s character for instance). Characters like Raven, Terra, and Starfire are gonna be more or less their 2003 versions, or at least some kind of fusion between the cartoon and the comics.
> 
> Please mind the tags and warnings. This is not going to depict the most healthy relationship, enough said.

Jason didn't pick up the transmission until Raven tried calling a third time.

He finished hogtying the three thugs he knocked out and pressed his gauntlet, bringing up the projection with a buzz. The image shook with static, and Raven's pale face came up, half-hidden under the shadow of her cloak.

The empath had her anxiety masqueraded like she always had. Her voice was both placid and indifferent when she said, ‘Robin, where were you? We thought that Deathstroke…’

“M’ fine,” Jason replied, “was a little busy.” He glanced down at the men on the ground, dressed like thugs and completely out cold. “I thought our sources told us that Slade was headed to where you guys went?”

‘Correct. But there could be unknown factors at play. We must keep an eye out.’ Raven paused. She turned to scold at someone, or _someones_ —Jason had a pretty good guess the arguing voices belonged to Speedy and Beast Boy—before she turned back, massaging her temple. She continued, ‘Though the Titans haven’t heard about Defiance showing up, there could be unforeseen complications. ’

“Relax, will you?” Jason said, looking down again. He rolled his eyes where the girl couldn’t see, “a few punks won’t stop me. Gosh, my task had to be the easiest. Info-gathering can't be more than a freaking _nuisance.”_

‘You should keep an eye out for Renegade.’ There was no jest on Raven's face. ‘The fiend is almost as dangerous as Slade. Stay alert, Robin.’

“Of course,” Jason answered, “don’t you trust me? Or are you just hesitant because… because I’m only the second one with this title?”

Jason regretted it as soon as he said it; the look on Raven's face made his gut wrench. Jason knew the unfortunate disappearance of the first Robin had been a major scar for the Teen Titans… but it's too late to take it back now.

“Oh my God, I didn’t mean…” he tried, wanting to fix his mistake. But Raven interrupted before he could continue.

‘Assure me you’ll be careful, Robin,’ she said, ‘Deathstroke is dangerous. He is no ordinary criminal. You haven't… you’ve never had a confrontation with him.’ She stopped, but the grim look on her face was enough. Jason knew how much destruction and misery the villain had caused the team. First what happened with Tara, then the whole deal with Trigon. And then… there was Dick.

‘We can’t allow ourselves to lose another Titan. If you find yourself in danger, make retreat your top priority.’ Calming herself, Raven continued, ‘call me or Cyborg in case anything comes up.’

Jason sighed before replying, “Of course.”

‘Raven out.’

Then the call ended.

Jason pressed on his gauntlet to turn off the projection before leaning on the wall, sighing.

It’s the second time he was on a mission with the Titans. The last time had been the first in five years before anyone named _Robin_ rejoined the team. A team once led by the one and only _Dick Grayson._

The Titans weren’t the same since the ex-Robin vanished with the deceased Kori after that fatal encounter. Neither Jason, nor anyone else, could dream of filling the emptiness Dick had left. It was straight-up impossible to live up to the legacy of his predecessor—a predecessor Jason had never met. The Titans Tower felt like the Batcave—Dick had left behind a kind of hollowness since he disappeared, a sort of… space that could never be filled.

Even if he finally could go on a mission with the team as he’d always wanted, there had been an inexplicable wound that divided Jason and the rest of the Titans. As if a sheet of transparent barrier isolated them. He couldn’t see or touch it, but it’s there; they could all sense it.

That was not something that one could heal by simply introducing a new Robin to the team.

Jason sighed, leaning on the wall behind him. He tried to get up and move on to his next task. To find out what Slade wanted with the antimatter core, a _totally necessary_ task. He mimicked Raven's tone to mouth out her words. He then made a face.

They all knew that’s how they standardly patronized any new members. It was just to steer him away from the center of the fight. Jason was fifteen years old. Did they think they could fool him like he was a kid?

Just then, Jason’s thoughts were disrupted by a slab of stone bursting into pieces beside him.

His first reaction was to jump aside and dock the chunks. Landing not too far away, Jason hid behind a wall before bending down. He stared at the space he once stood, trying to analyze the weapon the attacker used. He couldn’t see anyone nearby, and they left no traces of technology or darts where the stone had broken. And Jason knew something like a sniper rifle wouldn't break a slate as thick as this one so thoroughly.

Knowing that, there was just one possibility.

Among the broken pieces of the gravel, one of the larger chunks was moving. It rose into the air with seemingly no external force. Jason knew what was coming. He rushed up and turned over to dodge. And when he saw the same stone flying at him, Jason already knew who he was dealing with.

Then Jason heard a high-pitched laugh.

“There’s a new Robin? Is that right? Guess I’ll be the judge of whether you can measure up to the original.”

The feminine, chime-like voice came from above. On instinct, Jason looked up—and stared right at a giant piece of floating rock and the girl standing leisurely on top of it.

Blonde hair draped over her shoulders, the petite girl had blue eyes and the letter T over an orange backdrop on her armored chest. She tilted her head and smirked at him, throwing a small rock in her hand up into the air, then catching it again.

_Oh shit._

Then, right before Tara Markov could quickly land him another hit, Jason rolled over smoothly and dodged.

He hid behind a wall before swearing countless times in his head. Why would freaking _Terra,_ the traitor of the Teen Titans, be here? She was part of Defiance—Deathstroke’s team—and if she's here, then other members were likely to be nearby.

He heard a huge rock hitting the ground, and then the footsteps over the slate. The girl must have been playing with stones in her hand again, since he kept hearing a rock being thrown into the air before it was caught, again and again.

The sound of the wind betrayed her juxtaposition. Terra’s rock made only as far as grazing the tip of Robin's cape. Jason ran in the opposite direction, and he knew that Tara's power was putting him at an extreme disadvantage. But Tara was still human, and her abilities could only work with her limited reaction time and speed. If he ran fast enough and strategized his maneuvers well, he’d be able to make it out of here first. One step ahead of her.

“Well, I still think the former boy wonder had a better reflex,” Tara said thoughtfully behind him.

“It's better than being a traitor, you freaking Judas,” Jason couldn't help but sneer back at her.

He lowered his head to dodge another rock. Tara was almost shooting chunk after chunk at him with lightning speed. Jason had to wonder why the information the Titans got was incorrect—logically, Donna and Raven had intentionally chosen a post for him that would put him far away from Defiance’s grasp. But for him to ask others for help over this? And keep letting them think of him as nothing but a useless _substitute?_ No. He could handle it if it’s just Terra alone.

As Jason thought this, he leaped violently, stepping directly on one of the rocks levitated by Tara's power, and leaped onto the roof using the boost it gave him. This feat satisfied Jason. He wished Batman could see this—see if the old man would still give him that look of dissatisfaction, as if Jason was inferior to his predecessor.

Standing firmly on the roof, Jason took advantage of his temporary elevation and spurted a long-distance forward. Looking back, he didn't see Tara catching up. And just when Jason felt he might be lucky enough to lose her, a sharp Katana sword suddenly slashed towards him.

Jason dodged in time. The blow came during his distraction and almost cut into his thigh. It would have done some serious damage. And although Jason could withdraw, he wasn’t able to keep his stance. He rolled on the ground until he stopped at the ledge. Standing up, he found himself face-to-face with the wielder's black-and-orange cowl, covering half of the girl’s face as her silver locks of hair scattered below it. 

Ravager? Fuck.

That’s two members of Defiance in one place. Who’d show up next?

The girl rushed at him with her sword.

Jason responded in time. Retrieving a smoke bomb from his belt, he dropped it. Under the smoke’s cover, the boy quietly made his escape and leaped onto a neighboring roof.

It's as if they brought the entire team together. Jason prayed Renegade was not among them. His chance of escape was already rather slim.

Just as Jason was about to jump to the rooftop next to him, something suddenly grabbed onto his ankle and dragged him back from midair.

Jason gasped, but before he even cursed, he had to duck in time to avoid another slash.

“Good move, did you learn it from _Daddy?”_ Jason couldn't help but taunt. God, how much did he want to slap himself! Provoking an opponent who’s wielding a weapon that could easily cut off your head? Jason Todd, _how tired of living are you?_

Beneath Rose Wilson's two-toned cowl, the corners of her lips rose into a meaningful smile.

“Not _everything,”_ she said.

There had to be some meaning hidden behind that tone of hers. Jason decided not to dwell on it, even if it sounded like she was secretly mocking him.

Tara had also caught up to them. She raised from the ground, standing atop a stone pillar until the top of it was flush with the roof. She stepped onto it and stood behind Jason, a stone suspended above each of her palms. The two villains cornered Jason from two locations positioned at a ninety-degree angle. 

Jason cursed.

If he’d known that the enemy had this many back-ups, he would’ve contacted the Titans earlier. _But you just had to be stubborn, didn’t you?_

Jason was finally seeing the urgency of the situation, but at least he wasn’t in a position where he had nowhere to turn. The two flanked him from each side, but they hadn’t sealed his retreat just yet.

Jason dropped a flash bomb. An intense light shined along with a bang. He shut his eyes, avoiding Rose's Katana in his blindness, and fled to where he knew was open, the girls’ cursing ringing around and behind him.

A rock somehow shot toward Jason and he turned to evade it, deliberately letting his footfalls clank louder to bypass Tara while the bang disturbed her hearing. He jumped on the same pillar the girl had raised when she came up.

As Jason dropped to the ground with a grapple, he heard a heated argument between the two behind him.

“Stop him!” Ravager shouted in decibels that Jason suspected could tear her throat apart.

Another swoosh sounded. Fortunately, Jason could bend his torso in time immediately after landing. If he didn’t, the melon-sized rock might have already broken his ribs.

“I'm trying!”

Another rock bypassed him, but Jason avoided it. He began his escape on the ground, quickly hiding in the narrow space between two abandoned buildings to avoid the sight of his enemies. But Jason couldn't help looking back and up, dimly making out the two figures reaching the eaves using his peripheral.

He saw one of them reaching out and the ground cracked around him as if to engulf him. Jason took a sharp inhale, jumping quickly before the ground could close around him. He was secretly grateful that there was enough distance between him and Tara. Trying to use her powers at this distance might cause somewhat impaired intensity and accuracy.

Tara called from behind him again, “He's too fast!”

“How useless are you?” Rose scolded.

“Fuck you, Rose!”

If it weren't for the danger he was in, Jason might have laughed at their bickering. But Jason didn't dare to let down his guard. He ran faster, and even if he didn’t understand why Defiance was attacking him, at least he’d keep running until he could get to a safer place. Jason understood that, at least.

He had no intention of slowing down, if not for the blond boy suddenly appearing before him.

Jason was caught off guard.

He slowed down—not the right action to take in this situation, and Jason would certainly receive a scolding if Bruce ever found out—and looked at the face of the tall, beautiful young man.

By the time Jason realized the boy was wearing the standard Defiance suit and armor, it was too late. He had seen the bright irises of the blond’s eyes. They were green like a gemstone and transparent like glass—he stared at them for only a second, only to see the warm eye-whites turn black. He didn't know if it was an illusion. The next second the boy's body vanished, and Jason's own froze, every fiber in his muscles straining against the force, as if it were weighed down by hundreds of pounds of earth.

Jason couldn't help but let out a gasp from his throat. But his limbs were out of his control, and he was kept in-place like a lamb waiting to be slaughtered, giving his other adversaries enough time to catch up to him. All this took only a dozen seconds. But understanding his dire situation was enough to send Jason into a state of panic.

There were two pairs of trotting footsteps behind him. Too late, Tara and Rose were already here.

“Good job, Jericho,” he heard Tara say. With a loud noise, huge stones rose from under Jason's feet, entombing him like a wall and bracing him in place.

Even as control was returned to him, and the mysterious young man stood in front of him again, Jason still had no grasp on what had just occurred.

Jason was firmly encased in Tara’s earth, and he couldn’t move a finger. Tara walked up to him while keeping a hand raised, and Rose followed closely until all three stood side by side. They almost looked like a row of ducks being chased by the farmer into a single profile. If not because he was at the mercy of these villains, Jason might’ve even made some sort of joke about it.

But he couldn’t laugh now.

Only then could Jason see the young man’s face with better clarity. Short, curly blond hair framed his delicately shaped face, and the emotion he saw in his green eyes was...pity? Jason had never seen the guy. And it's not just Jason; the entire Teen Titans team had no idea that there was such a character active among Deathstroke’s team. But that didn’t prevent Jason from putting two and two together and coming up with the conclusion that the blond had taken control of him.

Rose then raised her hand and gave a high five to a less-than-eager Jericho. “Target acquired, bro, well done,” she said, shifting her wrist.

Jason saw Rose coming at him with her sword. But he didn't feel the cut of the blade as expected, only the hard handle smashing into his temple.

A buzzing sound flooded his brain. Jason’s world turned black.

+++

When Jason woke up, his ears were still buzzing. There was a severe ache on the side of his head. The entire world seemed to spin.

The entire world, the whole _fucking world,_ was stone.

They were underground.

Jason heard echoing footsteps. Three pairs were walking beside him. Who was carrying him?

...Tara's rocks, of course. The side of his face could feel the coldness and roughness of the stone surface as he lay suspended on the slab of rock. No wonder he’d felt weightless from time to time. Jason's hands were secured behind his back, as were his ankles. Running his fingers across the surface of the shackles was enough to confirm that the things were also made from compressed earth. There were no keyholes for prying. He had no way to free himself without some kind of superpower.

They were advancing through some kind of tunnel. The walls and ceilings were uneven, lacking in any polishing on them, like the inside of a mine. Jason could hardly open his eyes with the fluorescent lights shining directly in his face.

A passage created entirely using Tara's powers. Not bad, Jason thought sarcastically. For a no-good traitor, he’d even praise this feat as _impressive._

If it wasn't because he was being dragged against his will to some place unknown, Jason would even pat the girl on the shoulder.

Deathstroke’s voice interrupted his thought. It was unexpected. The speed at which they stopped made his vision swim again.

Fuck, his head didn't feel right. Rose's hilt attack might have caused Jason a slight concussion.

“Good job, kids,” he heard Deathstroke speak.

Then there was Tara's impatient reply.

“Who knew it’s this hard to catch a little bird?” the girl said accusingly, “what is even the reason for this shit task, old man? What can you even do with him?”

“It’s a... gift,” Deathstroke said, “you can think of it as a reward. For an outstanding student.”

The tone and underlying meaning of these words made Jason feel sick. In the next moment, he felt his body tilt as he fell from the air and was thrown onto the stone floor.

Tara’s unsuspecting move made Jason bump his head again, and he couldn’t help but groan. It was also then when he remembered to panic, his breath catching in his throat.

Then Jason heard footsteps. Judging by the heaviness, it had to be Deathstroke himself.

Panicked, Jason tried to get up on his knees. But he immediately felt dizzy and could only make a few inches before falling back down.

Deathstroke continued with his thoughtful monologue, “It’s all done to allow _someone_ to find their inner peace, just so he can finally invest more time and focus on his work.”

Then came the rustling sound of fabric, the sound of unsealing plastic wrappings, and the sound of a hollow object being bumped into.

Realizing what was going on, Jason forced himself to push down the urge to vomit and turned to look at the mercenary already standing above him. Deathstroke with the back light looked like a mountain that would crash and suffocate him. And in his hand ... God!

Jason struggled with utter terror. _Keep that needle far away from him. Don't let the unknown liquid touch him... don't bring the damn syringe close!_

But Jason’s current condition didn’t allow him to put up a fight. Deathstroke crouched in front of him with the syringe in his hand, as his black-and-orange helmet flashed coolly under the fluorescent light.

“Don't be afraid, little boy,” the mercenary said with his deep, echoing voice, as he firmly grabbed Jason's shoulder and pushed away his obstructing cape, revealing his short-sleeved arm, “this is just something to help you sleep.”

The needle pierced his arm. Jason's eyelids couldn't stay open as the clear liquid was pushed into his system.

+++

By the time Jason's consciousness returned, it looked like he was in some kind of dark and spacious interior.

He felt dazed, as if a layer of smoke had been cast through his head, making all cognition hazy. How long had time passed—had he been unconscious? The darkness of the room made it seem bigger than it probably was. Jason could hear the sound of metal rotating methodically. Gears. And the sound of friction between some ... metal and—cement? Or stone? From the distant shadows.

—the sharpening of a sword. That's right. Jason now remembered that this was the sound of the blade being sanded down. Once, twice, proceeding in an orderly fashion. He could pull this knowledge from his memories, yet he couldn't remember how on earth he got here.

Jason could feel his hands being pulled far apart on either side above his head and secured on a shelf made up of many horizontal bars. It was a metal shelf. Right. He could feel the coolness seeping into his skin through his cape. The cuffs on his hands were also made of metal, with chains attached.

Jason tried to analyze how long he was paralyzed, which could be a deciding factor whether the Teen Titans had already perceived his disappearance. But there was nothing here that could help him discern time. This room had no windows and led in no sunlight. It looked almost like a sealed tomb that, just by looking at it, was enough to make people feel asphyxiated. Jason could also make out the racks of weapons in the distance, a wooden stand for Katana swords by his left, and some fitness equipment, huge workbenches, and cushions on the ground and walls to protect the body—

—and the endless sound of the sword being sharpened. It made his head hurt.

“I did _not_ expect Slade to do something like this.” 

A voice came from that same direction. It had a magnetic quality to it. The voice of a man. In his late teens or early twenties? It was a male voice that’s done with puberty but still sounded rather young. The electric sound made Jason feel paralyzed, and it sounded familiar. Jason squinted to see better. But it was so dark that his eyes couldn't focus. Only the sound of the friction of the sword felt real.

“Who…” he began, a voice husky with a nasal quality to it, but Jason couldn't keep talking because of the pain in his throat and his short-circuited thoughts.

The sharpening stopped. Jason could feel the owner of the voice turning to look at him. He could almost feel the touch of the inquiring gaze burning into his body.

Then there were the footsteps. Echoes, floor made of wood, and combat-friendly soles. He first saw the man's face in the shadow, veiled under a black domino mask, and looked rather pale in the dark. Then he saw the armor and the black and orange uniform, and the letter R on the left side of his chest.

Then suddenly, all his memories came back. The mission, how Defiance ambushed him. Narrow underground passage ... the syringe that Deathstroke held. Jason couldn't help but suck in a shaky breath.

“Re-Renegade?” he had to force himself to squeeze out the sound, then immediately had to frown at hearing how hoarse his voice sounded.

The tall man came to him, with shoulder-length hair falling on each side of his face. The sky-blue eyes stared at him without empathy, and the attractively shaped Defiance suit made Jason's captor look more like a living myth than an actual person.

Horror engulfed Jason. The same assassin who deterred the Teen Titans and even some members of the League was now standing before him. And Jason was like a piece of poultry placed on a chopping board waiting to be cut.

Jason was choking in his panic. Even controlling his bodily reflexes felt hard. He coughed violently.

As he did that, Jason heard the sound of a plastic bottle unsealing when the cap was screwed open, then the mouth pressed against his lips. The cold liquid flowed into his oral cavity and throat, and the long-lost feeling of nourishment moisturized his esophagus. Jason tilted his head up to accept more, and the bottle lifted obediently with his movement.

Jason was sure he drank at least half a full bottle. The sound of gurgling water reached his ears, and the liquid flowed down the corners of his lips. It wasn't until he tried to wipe them away when Jason realized his hands were still restrained above his head.

It was this realization that brought Jason back to reality. The moment of distraction almost caught him, but Renegade removed the hand in time. Jason gasped, shakily taking a deep and greedy breath. As he panted and tried to look in front of him, Renegade was already unhurriedly screwing the plastic cap back on.

In his panic, Jason couldn't help but cough again.

It took a while before he could croak out, “What does Deaths-what do you want with me?”

Renegade studied him patiently as Jason numbly stared back, the other wearing a look that seemed like he could easily see through all his protective guise, and it triggered some alertness deeply inside of Jason.

“I have to admit, you're capable,” the man said after a while, “that you’re able to evade Ravager and Terra for so long. It wasn’t a feat to be taken lightly.”

Jason swallowed. The tone in Renegade’s voice disturbed him, and he couldn’t think of a response.

In the next moment, the man placed the half-empty water bottle at his feet. Renegade straightened up and tidied his leather gloves—he was dressed in all black except for the silver armor and the side of orange on his suit, like Deathstroke’s mask - then Jason watched as the man lowered his head, holding the domino mask using his thumb and three fingers, and took it off.

Then, Renegade looked up and smirked at him, “Glad to meet you finally, Little Wing.”

Jason couldn't help but suck in a mouthful of cold air before his breath was caught in his throat.

“Dick Grayson,” he whispered incredibly, more like talking to himself.

He couldn’t be mistaken. Although the face was much more mature than it looked five years ago, its features remained largely unchanged. Even if he never met the real person, Jason had seen countless photos and video feeds the former Robin left before he vanished without a trace years ago. The face in front of him was just a bit more polished than those images Jason had seen—the brows more sculpted, the face more shaped, and his hair was longer than it had been—but his intoxicating, beautiful blue eyes had not changed a bit.

Jason couldn’t believe that it's true. Trying to surpass his predecessor—or at the very least live up to others’ expectations—Jason had almost obsessively studied the recorded Batcave surveillance tapes, trying to reproduce every move that Grayson had perfected.

“In the flesh,” Grayson replied. He grinned, but the raised corners of his lips and those ivory teeth only succeeded in making him more threatening.

But how was this possible? How could the first Robin—the one who vanished for five years—the same person as the infamous Renegade?

“How...?” Jason began, his face must be brimming with questions.

“I left the Titans,” Grayson replied indifferently, “and sought Deathstroke. He used to pester me about becoming his apprentice. I kept refusing the deal. But then I finally changed my mind.”

“Do the Titans know you are-” Jason swallowed, but the words were forced back as he almost choked.

His hands wriggled in the shackles, and he was suddenly too aware of his situation. Being captured and restrained was not the way Jason imagined how he would meet his predecessor for the first time. The current Robin had to remind himself that Grayson was the same villain known as Renegade, who he’d always feared. The man might even be the same culprit that had tied him to this awkward position in the first place.

“That I’m Renegade?” Dick finished for him. He dropped his eyes and lightly stroked the metal shelf that had Jason firmly locked in place. “No, they don't. Bruce is the only person who knows.”

Jason’s eyes widened, “But he told me he didn’t know what happened to you.”

“Lying about something like this is a lot like Bruce's style, isn't it?” Dick sneered with a hint of pride, “what else did he tell you? Like I bravely sacrificed myself to protect the innocent, for instance?”

Jason closed his eyes and forced himself to calm down. _Think hard and analyze the situation._

“Dick, I don't know what happened to you,” he said calmly, “but I'm willing to listen. If you release me, then you can tell me everything.”

Dick looked at him with interest and hummed under his breath. “Although I was _not_ informed before you were brought to me, you and I both know that Deathstroke didn’t send you here for us to engage in face-to-face counseling. Isn’t that right, Little Wing?”

Jason took a deep breath, “You don't have to listen to Deathstroke. You're not his slave, Dick, I know you're strong enough to resist his authority.”

His words brought laughter out of Grayson’s mouth. "You thought Deathstroke forced me into this? Your naiveté is almost adorable, _Robin."_

Jason’s scalp tingled, and the way Renegade added the accent to his title gave him goosebumps for reasons beyond words. Yet, Grayson apparently didn't notice his abnormality. Instead, he continued to snort out a few more laughs, turning away from Jason as the man could barely keep his posture straight.

Looking at the man from this angle, the Renegade suit and armor made the lines of the muscles on his back look streamlined, and his half-length hair falling and dropping onto his upper arm as he was leaning forward. For a moment, knowing that Renegade was Grayson made it even harder for Jason to look at his predecessor, and the fantasies he’d had about the man in recent years were now more vivid than ever. Even if reality was a little different from what Jason had first imagined.

Jason gritted his teeth and reminded himself that this wasn't the time to be preoccupied. While Dick's attention was elsewhere, Jason fumbled through the hidden pockets on his wrists. His fingers successfully contacted the prying tools which had apparently escaped detection. Fortunately, neither Dick nor Deathstroke had thought to look there. Then he worked on the locks as calmly as he could.

“According to Deathstroke,” still facing away from him, Dick said thoughtfully, “if it wasn't for Jericho, who was an unknown factor to you, Defiance might have let you get away. You need to know that Tara and Rose were some of Deathstroke’s proudest apprentices … elite assassins he taught using his own skills,” he said, nonchalantly walking to his left, and Jason immediately saw the wooden stand on his left-hand side on which swords were on display. Humming softly, Dick’s gloved fingers gently stroked the sheath surface of a delicate blade, “... well. Strictly speaking, only _some_ of those skills were his.”

Jason's eyes widened as he finally realized something.

“Rose - you are the one who taught her how to use a sword?”

Without even looking back, Dick paused slightly. Then he took off the blade and turned around.

“Trained her,” he corrected, “as per her father’s request.”

Looking at him from the front, the youth’s athletic figure, hidden beneath all those armors, was looking dashing and attractive beyond words.

“You did well,” Dick mused, “I would have praised you - if it wasn't because I _loathe_ you with all my body and soul for taking my place on the Teen Titans.”

Such a spiteful tone came out of the man’s smiling lips like he was just chatting about tomorrow's supper. The sudden panic almost made Jason forget how to breathe.

But Dick wasn't finished.

“So Batman found another boy to replace me? It doesn't matter one bit. I know it will come sooner or later. But Titans were my home; they were my team, my friends and family. To let another Robin join the team? _That_ was simply unforgivable.” Hatred was dripping from his lips, eroding Jason's skin like acid.

Jason opened his mouth to say something, but every word he could think of seemed to have stuck in his throat. Instead, he closed his eyes, trying to digest what the other had said, attempting to understand what he meant.

 _Don't panic, Jason Todd,_ he quietly told himself, _remember your training. Keep talking to him and make conversation. Say anything to keep the exchange going. Distract him, don't let him take notice of those tiny movements your hands are making._

“But if you cared about that so much,” he asked with difficulty, “then why did you follow Deathstroke in the first place?”

“Slade was just like me,” Dick replied coldly, “focused, serious, and determined. The Titans were my most trusted and cherished friends, yet they have failed to do everything they could to prevent tragedy from happening. It had been their mistakes that had led to Kori's death, Little Wing. If I had gone to Deathstroke from the beginning, none of that would’ve happened. The only thing I regret now is that it took me so long to understand this, and by then the only thing I could still manage was revenge.”

“But how could you do this?” Jason couldn't help but blurt out, “you left no clues to your whereabouts when you left. Everyone was worried about you and has been guessing what had happened to you for five years. Especially Rae and Donna, they-”

But Dick’s sneering response shut Jason up instantly, "Would they do the same for Kori?"

Perhaps satisfied with seeing how Jason tried but failed to refute and was finally rendered speechless, Dick continued, “Let me tell you. When Kori died, no one shared my pain. I knelt beside her, crying and calling her name, ‘Please, please don’t die on me, Star.’ But what’s the point? She’s dead. And if I was to stay with the Teen Titans, I wouldn’t even have been able to avenge her killer. Deathstroke’s methods were the only way to prevent the same tragedy from happening again.”

The locks on the cuffs were giving quickly, but Dick's words bewildered Jason, and he found it difficult to look away.

Dick switched the sword to hold it in his other hand, then turned to face Jason.

“But to be honest,” he said, “I did _not_ expect Slade to come up with this plan of his and bring you directly to me. I was not prepared for this. I’m not even sure of what to do from here on.”

“Dick, please,” Jason closed his eyes in dread, hating his own desperate and trembling voice, “don't let Deathstroke have his way. Free me and we can talk.”

But Dick didn't move.

“But don't you want to know what's going on here? How is it you’d fall victim on a mission with such a low-risk factor? What's the real reason that you had failed?”

Dick suddenly stood upright. The abrupt movement made Jason reflectively flinch. Yet, the only thing Dick did was raise his hand and brush the boy's cheek with his knuckles, and the rough leather gently rubbed against his delicate skin. Jason forced himself not to turn away and didn't dare to make a move.

“Let me tell you why. It’s no coincidence that you are here now,” Dick whispered, “the information that you received was just a cover-up. That someone hired Deathstroke to assassinate the lead scientist and to retrieve their experiment was but a guise to divert the Teen Titans. Slade's goal had always been you. He said he hoped by having you I could recover what I had lost; that he hoped by having my successor at my mercy, I’d be able to find peace again. What do you think he meant by that? Robin, what do you think Slade wanted me to do to you?”

Jaso’s breath was caught in his throat.

“You… you’re a fucking maniac.”

“Perhaps,” Dick said softly and absent-mindedly. He mused, “but this is a real problem. Deathstroke threw me a hard card, didn’t he? You know, there are just _too many_ options I could pick from.”

Jason forced his body to stop shaking. He felt he should say something. _Anything._ Even if it's just a useless joke to lighten up the mood.

“How about letting me go, huh? Is that an option?” Jason forced himself to grin.

But Dick just watched him silently. There was no sign of a joke on his face, instead, he looked like he was staring at a madman.

“You know that’s something I will never do, Little Wing.”

This time, Jason couldn't keep his anger under control.

“Fuck! You can't keep me here forever!”

“You're right,” Dick agreed, much to Jason’s disbelief. “It makes no sense for me to keep you here as a captive, but choose not to do anything with you. It's hard to justify.”

Jason's hands contracted in his shackles because of the tension on his nerves. One cuff was successfully unlocked. And soon the other hand would also be free.

“What do you…” Jason swallowed and forced himself to say, “what are you going to do to me?”

“Good question,” Dick hummed softly, “maybe Slade thought I’d want to torment you. Maybe he thought I wanted to take your life myself or cut off a finger or two…or some other body part you have, just to send the cadaver back to the tower as a demonstration to my former Titan friends. Maybe he felt that taking my anger out on my successor would allow me to find peace. I’d also considered those possibilities. But after seeing you in person, I have _other_ ideas.”

_Just a little more…_

Jason stared at the man in front of him, eyes unblinking and mesmerized as if trying to decipher Dick’s intention through his expression. But Dick's eyes were cold and unrevealing. What really bothered Jason was that he didn't like how Dick's sight stayed on his face and collar just a little too long.

 _Crack._ The shackle opened.

Freeing from his restraints, Jason didn't waste any time landing on the floor. After making sure his stance was firm, he quickly rushed to the door, trying his best to broaden the distance between himself and Renegade as fast as possible.

But no sound came from behind him. Grayson stood there motionless.

“You shouldn't have done that,” a voice came from behind him, “it wasn’t a wise move.”

Some warning alarm was ringing in his head, constraining Jason's throat and making him choke.

The next moment, his kidnapper acted. Making almost no sound at all, Renegade slid through the darkness like a shadow, and only seconds had passed before Jason sensed an armored knee embedded into the small of his back as his captor knocked him to the ground with a hard impact.

The pressure on his torso cut off Jason’s gasp of surprise. Dick’s knee pinned him firmly to the ground, using his weight to keep him from moving.

“Do you think your pathetic little tricks can escape me?” The voice said from behind him with a hint of a _mocking,_ “I was the _first_ Robin, kid. You will pay for this little stunt of yours.”

Jason tried to struggle, but Dick caught his right wrist before twisting it back, his own body already pinning his left arm underneath. All Jason’s efforts were futile.

“Let me up, Dick!” Jason tried to plead, “Please, just tell me what you want!”

The man didn’t answer. Dick's breath was so light that Jason couldn't even hear him respire. Jason felt Dick’s hand gently dropping, brushing a strand of his hair and exposing the skin behind his ears, where contact with the cool air caused goosebumps forming on the back of his neck.

Jason didn't dare to move. Dick's fingers were so close to the most sensitive part of his body that Jason was completely at his mercy. He couldn't stop shaking.

“I told you you can't leave here.”

Jason took a deep breath before saying, “You can't keep me here forever, the Titans will find me. Batman will too.”

There was a hint of impressiveness in Renegade’s tone as he said, “Oh. Thank you for reminding me—otherwise, I would’ve forgotten.”

The leg abruptly withdrew. The uncomfortable metal knee-armor stopped digging into his flesh, and Jason could sense Renegade pulling back and getting up. But when he tried to get up himself, a tight grip caught his hair and his head was forcibly smashed to the ground.

Dazed, Jason's cry of pain was caught in his throat. His forehead experienced great pain, and he lost the will to resist for a short moment. Jason couldn’t do anything besides try to suppress the moan of agony coming from his lips.

He heard footsteps receding before stopping at the worktable. Dick picked something up from there, then he leisurely and unhurried returned.

A hand grabbed Jason's shoulder and turned his body over. The blurry figure of Renegade crouched in front of him on one knee, holding an unknown instrument about the size of a pager. Then, he saw the other's hand reaching back, taking out a folded dagger from his belt, and with a click, the blade released from its handle.

The sight of the sharp blade was enough to sound alarms of danger in Jason's head. Despite the pain, Jason struggled in his frenzied panic.

Dick easily suppressed all Jason’s efforts with one knee.

Pressing a button on the back of the instrument in his hand, Dick turned it on, and let the laser light shine on Jason's body.

“—I almost forgot that Batman would plant a tracker _in_ his Robin,” Dick said patiently. He scanned every part of Jason's limbs and torso with that metal scanner, the projected red dot looking like a ladybug crawling over the Robin suit.

“With our base so deep underground, they’d have no way of tracking it,” Dick explained absentmindedly as he was busy with scanning. “After they’ve captured you, Tara led the team underground as per our normal procedures to evade tracking. Even if the Titans could track down the exact location where your signal disappeared, you would’ve been gone a long time ago.”

“Stay away from me.” Finally understanding Dick’s intention, Jason turned hysterical, “you sick bastard! Asshole! Get away from me!”

“Don't worry,” Dick said, “I'm experienced with this.”

He said. Shifting his lower arm, Dick caught the hem of his uniform sleeve with his teeth and tugged it away from his wrist. He presented Jason with the inside of his upper arm, where a faint scar could be seen, only less than two inches long and extremely difficult to make out in the dark.

“As long as you don't put up a fight, even the scar will be indistinct when I’m finished.”

Jason’s eyes widened. It’s a logical expectation, but Jason just never entertained the idea that Dick had dug out his own tracker to evade Bruce.

The scanner beeped. It found the tracker in his left thigh with ease.

Jason’s resolution weakened. He knew he couldn't stop this from happening.

“Come on, Dick,” Jason begged, “please don't do this…talk to me, but don't…if Bruce finds out that you did this…”

Dick didn't bother to respond. The moment the knife cut into his leg, the agony rendered Jason's mind blank. The first moment it happened, Jason screamed. But the white noise in his head quickly dissipated. Jason regained his composure after a few seconds. He forced himself to swallow the remaining pain and endure it until Dick took the tiny piece of metal out of his flesh with a pair of tweezers.

Through his bleary eyes, Jason saw Dick wrapping the bloody tracker in a piece of gauze. Dick retired the dagger into the back of his belt, but he still pinched the small piece of blood-soaked gauze between his fingers, as if he wanted Jason to take a good look at it.

“Neither the Titans nor Bruce can find you now,” Dick said.

Jason winced at the pain. He couldn't reply at all.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ummm....tell me what you think? Also, please come talk to me on my tumblr if you also like bottom Jason! https://sarriathmg.tumblr.com/
> 
> Kudos and comments are all very appreciated!


	2. Breaking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope my English is still doing OK.
> 
> WARNING: If you've read to this point despite the tags and warnings I take it that you already have some ideas of where this is going? This chapter is mostly smut and I won't even grace it by calling it dubious consent cause it's more or less non-con... to me. And Jason is still underage. Dark!Dick isn't the best guy but I think he's not completely heartless either, just got issues.
> 
> Also, there's some slight torture involved.

Dick said to him, “Get up.”

Jason didn’t respond. With a buzzing noise in his head, he had to work hard to even hear the faintest sign of the man's voice. But even then, the mechanical sounds coming from the gears rotating monotonously above him almost completely drowned it out.

Dick was not patient enough to wait for a reply. The next second, Jason felt a leather-clad hand forcibly clench his upper arm before pulling him up.

The bleeding wound on his leg made Jason all but lose his will to resist. When Renegade grabbed and dragged him back to the shelf that had bound him, his body acted like a beanbag that allowed Dick to do whatever he wanted.

Dick pushed Jason onto the multi-railed rack. The coolness of the metal seeped through Jason’s cape, contacting his naked arms. He moaned from the ache of his injury and had to rely on Dick's hold on his arm to keep standing.

Then Dick grabbed his forearm and quickly pulled off the green Robin gloves that he wore. Dick also removed Jason’s utility belt before he threw it at his feet, following it with Jason’s cape after he unclasped it from his shoulders. The man’s hands fumbled back and forth on Jason's torso, quickly finding every dark layer and pocket in a practiced and skillful way, pulling out any tools that hid there. Not even Jason’s boots were free from inspection. As Dick leaned down to loosen his laces, the pain in his leg had become so great that Jason almost couldn't stand on his own, instead had to hold on to the shelf behind him to remain his poise.

Dick took off his boots and threw them aside along with his cape and belt until parts of the Robin uniform scattered all over the floor. As Dick stood up again, he wrapped his arm around Jason’s waist and pushed his shoulders against the boy’s torso, hugging him close and hauling him up. The aching injury made Jason cry out in pain before the sound gradually turned into a weak sob. Dick hoisted him until even Jason’s toes weren’t able to touch the ground. Anxiousness flourished. Jason’s heartbeat and breathing both speeding up rapidly. Yet his attempts and struggles must have seemed weak and useless to Dick.

Only then did Jason realize Dick was holding a bundle of ropes in his hand, thick as an adult’s thumbs.

“No, you fucker, let me go!”

He screamed, terrified. Even doing this was too difficult; with his body suspended, Jason could only hold so much air in his lungs. He spoke these words with difficulty, sounding powerless and pitiful.

Dick ignored his protests. The man quickly restrained Jason's bare wrists with one hand before binding them to the rails with the rope.

“Let me go!” Jason screamed again, as frightened as it outraged him.

Unable to break free of his bonds, the only thing Jason could manage was twisting his pelvis while trying to get himself out of Dick's clutches. Realizing that this method was useless, he lifted the uninjured leg and tried to hit Dick's chin with his knee.

Dick dodged just in time. The next moment, Jason felt an intense pain as the older boy tightly squeezed the open wound on his left leg with his fingers, a gloved thumb deliberately jabbing into his bleeding flesh. The agony suddenly hollowed out his mind.

“Fuck!” Jason involuntarily cried out. Yet his tone sounded shaky.

Then Renegade crowded in on him. His other hand grabbed Jason's knee and nudged his legs apart to make room for himself. Jason's entire body was suspended in midair, relying solely on his restrained hands to support his weight. Renegade pressed Jason tightly against the shelf with his torso and lifted his hand in favor of supporting Jason’s butt. The man's knee rested between his legs.

“Do nothing unnecessary,” Dick said, “keep your legs open and wrapped around me. And don't move. Do you understand?”

Fingers jabbed into the open wound on his leg, making Jason scream. It successfully put a stop to his resistance as the boy’s legs involuntarily tightened around Dick, inadvertently pinching the man's body between them.

Dick’s armored knee rubbed against Jason’s crotch. Even with his suit’s protective paddings, Jason still experienced the waves of pleasure, becoming harder and harder to ignore as blood flowed into his cock.

When Dick took off the armored top of Jason’s Robin suit, he was still rather clueless about what was going to happen. The simultaneous sensation of blood loss and arousal left his brain blank. The only thing he could discern was that the man's techniques were too proficient, too practiced, and he had an unparalleled sense of dexterity in finding and unlocking every hidden button and gap on this uniform. It took no longer than half a minute to remove the red top of his suit.

It wasn't until Dick took off his lower garments that Jason's brain sounded the alarm.

Jason struggled violently, hitting Dick's torso with his hips, trying to distance the man from himself.

“Asshole, stop! What do you think you're doing?”

“Taking back what’s mine,” Dick replied effortlessly, hooking onto Jason's back to suppress his struggles. The tone in those words petrified Jason.

The hairs on the back of his neck were standing on end, and Jason had to swallow hard.

“No, Dick, just look at what you're doing!” He swore it wasn’t his intention for these words to sound so much like a plea. “I don't know what you want, but this is not you. God! You were Robin, for heaven’s sake! Wake up, dude!”

But Dick didn't answer. He was busy lifting the last concealed button on Jason’s tights before pulling it off his legs with slow and torturous speed, and Jason had to clench his teeth when the fabric rubbed against his wound.

The green Robin tights fell to the ground along with his undergarments. Jason now hung naked from the shelf, with the only thing left: the domino mask on his face. Dick hadn’t touched it even once. Ironically, it didn't matter who Jason was or could be under the mask - what's really important was that he’s Robin, and that's the only thing Dick cared about.

Jason couldn't believe that this was happening. The ropes restrained his arms above his head as he’s forced to rely on those vulnerable shoulder joints to support his entire body's weight. It’d be easy to slip down. Eventually, his only option became the need to wrap his legs tightly around Dick's waist. The nakedness of his crotch rested flush against Renegade’s abdomen. With all the stimulation the organ had already gotten, Jason's cock was half erect. Shamefulness eroded him, so he tried to bury his warm face under his restrained arms.

“How experienced are you?” Dick asked suddenly. His leather-clad hands stroked Jason's sides lightly. They slowly crept upwards until Dick teased both of the sensitive buds on the boy’s chest. The texture of the gloves brought a unique sensation to his skin, and Jason couldn't help but moan. The buds of his nipples hardened under Dick’s touch.

Words stuck in Jason’s throat. The act confused Jason, unclear whether the confusion was because of the blood loss or the magnetic sound of Dick’s voice when he said these words.

During his sex-induced trance, Jason suddenly heard a popping sound. It’s the sound of something being uncovered. He tried to make it out, but his blurry eye prevented him from seeing the label on the simple plastic tube Dick was holding. Dick had opened the cap and squeezed the transparent gel onto his hands.

“Now is the right time. Tell me things about those more responsive parts of your body,” Dick screwed the cap back on as he said seemingly absentmindedly, before spreading the thick liquid in his palm, “speak to me, Robin.”

“Dick, what are you _doing_ with that-” Jason questioned in alarm.

But Dick didn't answer him, not even sparing him a single glance. The older boy applied the gel from his palm to his fingers. Eventually, all three fingers covered thickly with the stuff.

“Answer my question, Robin,” he simply said.

Jason struggled as fear slowly engulfed his mind, even trying to wriggle his body fiercely despite him still being hung halfway in the air. Jason tried to hit Dick's upper torso with his knees, attempting to push him away, and all he wanted at the moment was to distance himself from the man in front of him.

Jason spoke only when someone roughly grasped his ankle, words coming out dampened, “Dick, what are you going to - please, _please_ just take that thing away from me…”

The hand jabbing into his wound left him with no choice but to shut up. The leather rudely rubbed the unprotected, tender flesh on the inside of his wound, forcing out a scream. More blood was flowing from his wound, and Jason could feel the hot fluid dripping down his bare thighs. Then, with a rough gesture, Renegade pulled the boy's legs back to wrap around himself.

Jason whimpered, the drumming of his heartbeat ringing in his temples. The agony he felt made it difficult to breathe, so the only thing he could manage was to curl up within the limited space of movement his captor gave him.

Leather-clad thumbs brushed against the sensitive skin between Jason’s thighs, causing him to tremble. Dick's hands were too close to his shaft, simultaneous pain and sexual desire competed for dominance. Jason still wanted to say something, but his nerve rendered him speechless, so he swallowed, shallow breaths almost caught in his chest. To find a point of support, Dick's other hand had found the space behind Jason's head. His ring and little finger hooked onto a metal bar and the rest of his fingers rested on the back of the boy’s neck. The contact made Jason stiffen. Any unintentional touches the man’s fingers were doing to him were making Jason sob, and the friction of his thumb rubbing at the side of his neck stimulated Jason’s senses in a never-ending stream. Jason gasped, the sense of pleasure spreading down his back, like currents of electricity, gathering at his crotch, buttocks, and where the small tight hole of his entrance was located.

“So... I’m guessing _this_ has to be one of your more delicate areas?” Dick said, gently stroking the skin on the back of Jason’s neck with his thumb, causing gooseflesh to form and pulling a soft moan out of Jason’s mouth.

Jason finally panicked when a couple of fingers covered in a layer of viscous gel-like substance suddenly brushed against the skin of his cheeks.

“No, Dick, please don't do this... I’ll do anything-”

Dick's fingers were already gently massaging outside of his bare hole, helping the muscles relax there while applying a thick layer of lubrication to the outer surface of his entrance. The friction between the fragile entrance and roughness of the leather produced feelings of heated currents that ran through Jason's body.

Dick’s intention had become more than clear, and Jason finally understood thoroughly the things that were about to happen. It terrified Jason beyond belief. His heart pounded in his chest. The touch of Dick's fingers made more blood gather between his thighs. He’s now completely hard.

He couldn't believe something like this could happen to him. In his delirium, Jason had no other options. He began pleading in a voice that sounded almost self-deprecating.

“Don't, please, Dick-don't do this to me…” he sobbed, “this is going to be my first time - I've done nothing like this ... tell me what you want, but please don't do this to me…”

But as soon as Dick's fingers entered his body, it forcibly broke Jason's words in half. Dick introduced two fingers at once, and the instant aching it caused almost dwarfed the pain caused by his bleeding wound as white noise suddenly filled his mind, breaking his concentration. Jason drew in a mouthful of air, his legs tightly gripping Dick's body. But the man turned a blind eye to his distress. His index and middle fingers kept squirming forward with the help of the lube, scissoring, trying to open up Jason’s tight hole. It kept on aggravating his nerves.

Breathing hastily, sobs filled Jason's pleas.

" - Dick, please ..."

He could hardly make out the face of his abuser. But Jason could tell that in a moment Dick looked up at him. The man's blue eyes left an impressionable afterglow in his retinae.

“It's your first time, isn't it?” he heard Dick spoke casually, murmuring in his musing, “that's most fortuitous for me. Haven’t you ever explored your body before?”

Renegade’s fingers tentatively probed within Jason's passage, nothing but a tiny movement, yet it made the boy shriek out a high-pitched scream, completely inconsistent with the provocation his body received. He used both hands to clutch onto the rope that bound him, having to clamp Dick's body tighter with his knees.

Dick seemed to take an interest in this response. He moved Jason's body upwards so he could hold him more comfortably, causing the boy to blurt out another quick yelp This allowed Dick's fingers to bury even deeper inside Jason's body, so much so they nearly reached the limit to where they could go. Even the thickest pair of Dick’s knuckles were inside the boy’s rim. Dick swiped the fingertips of his free hand seemingly unintentionally across the length of Jason's shaft, stroking so softly they were like feathers, making the boy moan. It almost took him to the point of craving, and he arched his hips forward for his crotch to meet with Dick's malicious teasing.

“It's not unexpected or shameful for someone your age to admit to having touched themselves,” Dick said, “but it seems you’ve never tried to explore _inside_ your body? You act as if this is the first time anyone has done this to you - or maybe, you are really a dissatisfied slut on the inside?”

“Dick, fuck you, get away from m-ah!” a jab of the fingers made him cry out. Suddenly, Jason found no other choice but to answer truthfully, “-I’ve-on-only ... I’ve only used my fingers and nothing else - I swear!”

He heard Dick chuckle. While catching Jason off guard, the man had a third finger inserted into him. Jason jumped, but he couldn't stop any of it from happening, and trying to hit Dick again with his hips didn't help. In his helpless position, he had no chance of resisting any of the assaults being done on him. So he could only bite his lip. Whines escaped his clenched teeth.

“This must be good then,” Dick said, “I think I’ll enjoy fucking you.”

Gloved fingers fucked into Jason's body. The pain spread throughout his body accompanied by a new stimulus, especially when the rough leather touched a sensitive area at the front wall of his passage, Jason couldn't hold back his scream. His knees were trembling as his fingers and toes kept stretching and flexing. He had to grab onto the rope that bound his wrists, and the muscles of his thighs wrapped even tighter around Dick. Jason didn't dare to let go even for one moment, afraid that he'd collapse as soon as Dick withdrew his support.

With the gradual loss of lubrication, Dick's fingers felt dry and chalky. The movements became increasingly difficult, and the rough texture of the leather irritated Jason's fragile nerves. This, coupled with the constant stimulation done to his sensitive opening and inner walls, Jason, who’d never experienced such intense arousal, found the entire experience increasingly unbearable. He sobbed, clutching the rope with both hands. He used the rope and bars as leverage, lifting his body to pull away from Dick. But the next second he felt something pressing into his right shoulder. Dick grabbed Jason's shoulder and forced him to stay, leaving him with no choice except to endure the assault being done to him.

“Dick, please stop-” Jason implored, choking on his tears- “I can't take it-”

The hand on his shoulder stroked his neck gently. Jason forced himself to open his eyes and stare at Dick's face through the moisture. It's a whole new experience to see the attractive man at such a close range. Jason saw those azure eyes look up at him.

The fingers pulled out of his body and made a wet _pop._

Jason couldn't hold back a cry. Suddenly the sense of shame was almost unbearable, and his tears poured out like water from a broken pipe.

Dick was shifting his legs, adjusting them to have them wrap more tightly and comfortably around his waist. The fabric of Dick's uniformed chest was flush against his bare stomach, and Jason was completely at the mercy of his captor like a sex doll, weak as he was.

“I'm liking your reactions,” Dick whispered, “tell me, what people or things do you usually fantasize about when you satisfy yourself?”

These words brought Jason back to reality like a zap. He looked up to see the expression on Dick's face, realizing his situation in a painful awareness. Grayson's presence made him remember how he’d used to look up at his predecessor hopelessly before he became Robin. His painful erection was gradually becoming harder to ignore as time passed. Jason was in a state of discomfort and he ached for some sort of release.

Renegade undid the hidden clasps of his own uniform. When Jason saw Dick pull out his cock, impressive in both length and size, the organ was already as hard as a rock, which again made the teen fight to hold back a painful sob.

As Dick started applying a thick layer of lube to his erect cock, Jason couldn't help but weep, and the moisture in his eyes burst out. He wasn't ready just yet; this wasn't how he pictured his first time.

“Why are you doing this?” He begged in a shaky, pathetic voice, confused by everything that was happening to him, “Grayson, please, talk to me and tell me why-just, please, _please_ -”

But his predecessor’s soft and almost sweet coos soon interrupted his words

“My gosh.” Dick gently lifted a strand of hair that sticking to the boy’s forehead by sweat and tears, stroking his cheeks with his knuckles, and wiping away a teardrop falling from Jason’s domino mask. “The trust you put into others is almost _cute.”_

Jason bit his lip. He couldn't think of a single word to say, so he simply shook his head.

“How dare you come into _my_ city, hang out with _my_ friends, all the while using _my_ name?” Dick continued with a dark tone, loathing came out of his mouth like thorns, “I sincerely despise you for stealing these things away from me. I want to see you suffer, to see you _damaged.”_

By now Dick had already completed his preparatory work. He adjusted his position, lifted Jason, and propped up his cock so that its tip was in line with the boy’s entrance.

“I want to _wreck_ you,” damaging venom irrigated Dick's tone as he said, “I want to fuck you until you weep and beg me for mercy, and then, I want to hear you sob while begging for _more.”_

These words made Jason’s heart sink as if he was being forced to swallow a rock. Breathing stopped for him. Hypoxia fogged over his brain and destroyed all thoughts.

With a wet gurgling sound, the tip of Dick’s penis pushed into his hole.

The pain instantly made Jason’s face pale. He couldn't help but let out a scream, tears of humiliation soaking his cheeks, and his restrained hands struggled uselessly in their bond.

Dick was slowly pushing forwards and upwards, deeper into his narrow passage with the help of the lube. The invasion of the foreign object made Jason twitch with hurt. He choked out a gasp, mouth wide open.

“Dick, please, pull it out, please pull it out-” he barely choked out through his tears- “I’ll do anything, just please-”

The cock was too thick and too large; his body couldn't bear it at all. Even though there's no denial that Jason tried finger-fucking himself once or twice, getting off from the photos and recordings of the ex-Robin when he was at his horniest, those were merely sexual fantasies not unusual for a hormonal teen his age. But he'd never thought that he’d one day find himself in such a situation, forced to accommodate his predecessor with no precaution; this act simply transcended his perception of his own body's physical limits. Jason was afraid Dick would tear him apart.

"I'm sorry," as if throwing away his dignity, he begged. "Dick, I'm sorry, if I did something wrong, I'm sorry, please-please don't do this to me ..."

He felt a gloved thumb lightly wiping away his tears. Jason lifted his head, and before he could blink his vision clear, he felt the man's lips trapping him in a declarative kiss so fierce it's impossible to reject, strong enough to hurt him. Dick sucked his lower lip and licked along the contours of his mouth. Then, cleverly prying open his teeth, Dick forced Jason to open himself up to him.

Dick was skilled, but this was nothing but a dominant kiss. It was full of the intention to conquer and claim without a trace of love or passion. Yet Jason still had no choice but to give in. Dick had left him with no room for objection.

The kiss made it a little easier for his narrow passage to bear Dick's size. As Dick kissed him, his cock easily found its way deeper into Jason’s body. One hand was gently stroking Jason's naked back soothingly, helping him to better accommodate the enlarged organ.

With a damp sound, the shaft sank to the deepest point it could go, the sacks flush against his naked cheeks. Trapping the boy in his arms, Dick grabbed onto the bar behind Jason’s head with both hands to support himself. By the time he was free from the kiss, Jason's lips were all swollen and reddish from the rough suction, and all Dick did was back a little away from him, almost touching his heated forehead with his own. The boy stared at Dick's darkened blue eyes through his own blurry ones. The close image of the man's face could somehow lessen the pain he felt, and the dread that came with his ravishment felt less unbearable.

The scene made it impossible for Jason not to recall the times he used to play with himself while watching the videos and photos this same person had left before he disappeared five years ago. Jason used to view the recordings that Robin had taken at the Titans’ parties, listening to the teen’s magnetic and charming voice while fantasizing about the type of person the ex-Robin was. Jason used to caress his desire almost unbearably, even once or twice attempted to fuck himself with his fingers, all the while having to cover his mouth to muffle his excessive moans so that Bruce couldn’t hear him from the next room.

And now, the man he had fantasized about was really having his cock buried in Jason’s body. Even though Dick Grayson was no longer Robin - taller and more matured - this was still him. Grayson was still Grayson. And the realization that Jason was being raped by someone who he used to have a hopeless crush on splashed down upon him like a bucket of ice-cold water.

When Dick pulled out slowly, Jason couldn't help but wheeze out a whimper, and it forced his legs to wrap tighter around Dick's waist.

His predecessor pulled back his cock with only the head still locked within his rim. The sound of Jason’s body being bumped up again abruptly halted Jason’s painful cry. It was a kind of grunting noise not dissimilar to the sound a cork made being pushed back into the bottle, accompanied by a muffled sound forcibly trapped in his throat by the impact. Jason felt the pain like he was being torn apart, but he couldn't stop the act from happening and could only lock Dick's body tighter with his legs in order to stabilize himself.

Eventually, Dick's cock thrust in and out of his body, again and again, making moist grunts every time as he kept jerking Jason’s body up before letting it ease down again. The enlarged cock moved in and out freely with the help of the lube, but the pain of his first time wouldn’t lessen with the number of times Dick tore into his body. Dick wasn't going fast, yet Jason couldn't bear it. This might even be more painful than the removal of his tracker. Both his entrance and inner walls were sensitive to stimulation, and any slight contact by Dick's length made him tremble uselessly.

Dick shifted to grab the bar with one hand and support Jason's hip with the other. Gradually, Jason could hear the other's breathing becoming rougher and heavier as the hand resting on the rail caressed Jason's sweat-soaked hair, stroking from top to bottom, coming down to reach his sensitive neck before teasing and grinding his fingers there, making Jason utter out an almost lewd moan.

“You-re-really don't save me the-the worry, don’t you, kid?” Renegade's voice came with effort and a grin, “it seems like I would have to keep you in chains in the future.”

Jason wanted to answer, but the new thrust forced down his voice. He could only bite down on his own lip. In his panic, he used his restrained hands to grab the bar that bound him, trying to lift his body to evade Dick's assault. But the very next moment Dick seized him by the waist and pulled him back forcibly to sit on Dick’s length. It penetrated him to an unprecedented depth—worsened assault as a punishment for his defiance—causing Jason to cry out in pain, and he had no choice but to take more of Renegade’s ravagement.

"Dee-ah-Dick-" he beseeched in a weeping voice, "please let go-let me go-I don't-can't continue-"

Jason’s weeping finally rendered his voice indistinguishable. Dick answered him with a tight embrace. Renegade’s arms densely wrapped around Jason, Jason’s entire weight resting on Dick's length—now enlarged to where it felt like it could come at any moment—like a piece of meat skewered atop a wooden stick.

Dick's arms tightly clasped his body, hips quickly rocking in and out of him, each time with more speed and depth, and Jason's body was being jostled up so rapidly that it became gradually harder and harder to breathe. The pain of the friction on his sensitive inner wall accompanied by the thrill when the cock hit his entrance and the sensitive area inside time and time again. Jason felt as if he was in a fire pit for one moment and under the ice for another, thrown between the two extremes like a tennis ball tossing through the air, all the while constantly looking for any non-existent grounding as he flew. Moans with both pleasure and pain kept leaking out of Jason's mouth before he bit his lip to stop himself from making any more sounds. If he hadn’t done that, perhaps he’d already been spewing out countless obscene screams like a flood.

During the act, Dick paused for a moment, before deciding to support Jason's naked buttocks with his hands. He bumped the boy’s body up from its position around his hips and adjusted the legs wrapped around his waist. Any of his subtle movements irritated Jason's abused hole and caused more pain.

Dick quickly thrust into Jason's body at a faster pace. His cock grew even larger inside the boy's passage as Jason's waist was being forced into tight curves repeatedly while Dick kept pushing him up again and again. Completely entrapped within Dick's arms, Jason’s position made it easier for Dick's full length to insert into the deepest parts of his passage every time, the act was equal parts the closest intimacy between Jason and his predecessor and the utmost violation upon him. Completely spent by the intercourse, Jason rested his flaming forehead on top of Dick's shoulder and whimpered with every thrust. Dick pecked passionless kisses onto the side of his neck, making Jason tremble.

“Shh, Little Wing,” he whispered provocatively in his ear, “you’re doing fine.”

“Uh-” Jason was delirious, and he could but only moan out a beseeching whimper deeply from his throat. This prompted Renegade to peck more kisses on his bare shoulder and arm, and the numbing pleasure mitigated the pain and shame that came with the assault.

All his cries of pain gradually turned into almost lewd moans, like the type of wails one could hear in porn. Jason felt stunned, and he couldn't make note of anything beyond the sensation of repeatedly being filled to the brim with the enlarged penis. His fingers and toes were constantly stretching and contracting, steadying himself by clinging to the rope and rails. Yet no matter how hard he tried, Jason just couldn't eliminate the feeling that there was nothing that he could hold on to. The sensation of Dick’s length inside of him was a different extreme compared to simply fucking himself with his fingers and experiencing this kind of intense intercourse for the first time in his life terrified Jason.

The last few thrusts into his body were the most intense, and the most encrusted with the announcement of ownership. Then his predecessor shot his cum deep inside of Jason.

When Dick climaxed, it filled Jason to the brim. Influxes of cum injected deep into his body, filling him and forcing him to receive Renegade’s seed. At that same moment, the knowledge of his being used and dominated became an irrefutable fact. And something inside Jason collapsed.

“Fuck you,” Jason wept into Dick's shoulders, his own shoulders trembling. His throat was dry and cracking. “Fuck you, Grayson. You fucking bastard.”

Semen that his body couldn't contain flowed back down through his passage with gravity, overflowing out of his abused hole. He was like a cracked pipe. The whole situation was ridiculous beyond belief.

Dick's hand was still stroking his hair. False affections.

“You did so well, Robin,” the man sighed. The orgasm made him tender.

Jason turned his head angrily to avoid the man’s touch, but the soreness in his body led to him stopping halfway.

“Fuck,” he said, gritting his teeth, abstaining painful tears.

Dick's softened cock still had Jason pegged, and the soreness was numbing, but Dick had no intention of pulling out of his body. Instead, Jason's own cock, which had already been erect for a while, was suddenly being wrapped in his hand.

He made a weak, gasping sound, but as Dick stroked him with experienced caresses, he did nothing to stop him. Even if Jason had wanted to do so, he didn’t possess the strength to achieve it.

Compared to the assault he’d gotten moments before, Dick's pleasuring him was not unwelcome at all. But he was too sensitive, and any malicious tugs caused Jason to groan and sob. It didn't take long for him to come—Jason was already like a pressured garden hose that could burst, and the remaining lubricant on Renegade's gloves combined with his own body heat was enough to make an inexperienced boy feel dizzy and over-sensitized. Jason watched as the milky semen spilled over his chest and abdomen. The image made him shameful. Dick gripped his cock in his palm; nothing would be easier for him than to motivate an orgasm out of the teenager.

After making sure of Jason’s release, Dick slowly withdrew from his body, and the remaining semen poured out of his hole. Jason felt either like a leaking water balloon or a damaged toy. Dazed, he heard Dick rearrange his uniform after a brief cleanup of himself, while he still wrapped his exhausted and sore legs around the man's body.

Then Jason felt a tug on the rope that bound his wrists. Dick unhurriedly untied it, wet leather contacting Jason's wrists from time to time.

With hands freed, Jason involuntarily clung onto Dick’s neck using both arms. However, he didn’t fall as he expected. Dick didn't allow it. Instead, the man's hands supported his hips and one of his legs as he was directly carried towards the large worktable, legs still wrapped around Dick's torso.

Dick made him sit on the table - the movement tugged painfully on his hole, causing Jason to hiss out. Fortunately, Dick was patient enough to put him down gently, ensuring that he was subjecting Jason's injury to as little pressure as possible. The temporary pain made black circles dance around in Jason's eyes. He felt dazed for a moment and didn’t even put up a fight when he suddenly heard metals colliding. There was the sound of metal teeth sliding into grooves, the cold ring contacting the skin of his wrists as a pair of handcuffs shackled both of his hands to the rail on the side of the table.

Struggling only brought forth the clinking sounds as he stretched the chain to its limit, Jason let out a sob, then tried to shrink down on himself.

“Wait here,” the man whispered to him. He rested one hand on Jason's back, gently stroking and massaging away the soreness there. When the man finally straightened up and turned away, Jason felt a kind of emptiness that craved for Dick’s missing touch and attention.

Dick left the table. When he returned, he had a medical kit in his hand and the bottle of water that Jason took a drink out of moments before.

Standing in front of him, the older boy unscrewed the bottle cap. He pressed the mouth of the bottle against Jason’s lips.

“Drink.”

Jason didn’t need more persuasion to do exactly that. He opened his mouth without complaint and drank the rest of the water, while a ton of the fluid flowed out through the corners of his mouth. All the crying and the dehydration brought on by sex took the breaths out of him.

When the bottle was empty, Dick set it aside and opened the medical kit, taking out what he needed- gauze, disinfectant, sterilized needles and thread, and medical tapes.

Jason passively watched on as the man did this. He at least understood enough to accept any help that his captors were willing to provide. So he willingly let Dick wipe the blood away from his injury, and when he sprayed the stinging disinfectant onto the wound, Jason made no move other than frowning slightly from the pain.

The whole fucking scene was hilarious, Jason didn't even know whether to laugh or cry. His hole was still giving way to Dick’s semen - the seed left by this man as he raped him - yet Jason was just sitting there obediently like a loyal puppy, letting his abuser treat the same wound that he had caused. Allowing Dick to pierce his skin with a medical needle, he let him stitch together the open wound where his tracker was. The treatment proceeded quickly. Dick was skilled in this matter, and Jason was cooperating well enough.

After Dick finally fastened the gauze to the stitched wound with tape, Jason took no time in shrinking his body into a ball as Dick tidied up his tools, wrapping his arms around his knees. He felt helpless and distressed, but Jason didn't want his captor to know this.

Dick, while he concentrated on packing up the medical equipment, never once spoke to Jason or even looked at him. And as he took the medical kit and got up to take his leave, Jason finally could not hold back his inquiry.

“What’s next? What are you going to do - what are you planning to do with me?”

He saw Dick pause. As the man turned back, eyes gradually falling on him with complex emotions, “Anxious, aren’t you? You will find out soon enough.”

Jason bit his lip as he tried and failed to disguise his anxiety.

Dick turned and walked away again, not paying more attention to Jason. The boy couldn't stop himself from yelling at Dick’s back

“I will leave here, asshole! Unless you kill me, else I'll escape for sure, and you'll pay for what you did!” and when Dick didn’t reply to him, he shouted angrily, “the Teen Titans will not be happy to know that you and Renegade are the same person, jerk! Nor will Bruce. He'll be furious. You just wait for the moment they find out about your identity!”

But Dick just walked away without looking back. He fussed with something on the other side of the room, leaving Jason handcuffed to the table. He couldn’t do anything except to shrink back into himself, forcing himself to hold back more tears that were threatening to pour out of his eyes.

There was a constant sound of Dick packing something at the other end of the room, but the darkness of the room prevented Jason from making out anything. There was almost nothing except some blueprints on the worktable that trapped him—there was no way he could pry open the handcuffs with no tools, especially when his keen abductor was still in the same room as him. Jason almost couldn't bear the tears, trying not to think about how the predecessor he had been secretly admiring had left him handcuffed to the cold table after taking him against his will, and his naked body was still overflowing with the fluid that reminded him of his violation. Exhausted, Jason finally curled up and laid down on the table, wrapping his arms tightly around himself, and imagined that he was in the Batcave he knew so well, instead of being the prisoner in the lairs of the villains who kidnapped and abused him.

He slept on the table. Naked, Jason had to curl into the shape of a ball in order to maintain his body temperature. Fortunately, the temperature in Jump City had never been cold, and Jason was tired enough.

+++

Not a lot of time must have passed when he woke. Jason figured that it must have been only an hour or two - growing up on the streets of Gotham, he was used to light sleeps that allowed him to wake every couple of hours.

There was a thin cloth draped over his body. It was his Robin cape. It’s fucking hilarious. He wanted to murder Grayson. Jason almost laughed so hard that he cried.

Where _was_ Grayson now? Jason looked up, straining his body as he caught onto a rustling noise from the other side of the room. He realized that the hustle came from what’s being placed inside a canvas bag. There were the crisp sounds of the occasional metals colliding with each other. Dick was packing his familiar weapons into the cylindrical travel case, zipping it shut as he finished.

Where was he planning to go? Jason felt a shimmer of curiosity.

A series of approaching footsteps caused Jason to panic. He reflectively dropped his head, pretending to sleep. Intentionally leaving a gap between his left eyelids, Jason peeped at Dick through the crack. 

Dick came to the table. What Jason saw wasn't him in the Renegade suit but a young man in gray trousers and a casual shirt. He saw Dick turning his back towards him, long hair falling over his shoulders as he stopped at the table, then pulling a cell phone out of his pocket.

The screen lit up in the dark, the lock screen a photo taken at least five years ago - a fifteen-year-old Robin showing off a cool-guy smirk as a girl smiled sweetly to the camera, her emerald eyes a perfect contrast to her orange-red hair. Robin and Starfire, taken before all that had happened ... before Dick Grayson’s fall, when he was still _good._

But Dick didn't unlock it, just glanced at the clock on his screen. The huge numbers made it easy for Jason to read as well - it showed Friday, five in the morning.

This information made Jason anxious. He’d been missing for an entire day and night. Did the Teen Titans know what happened to him?

Lost in thought, Jason didn't immediately notice when Dick pocketed the cell. Jason’s heart pounded faster when the man suddenly turned back, immediately closing his eyes, and he pretended to sleep. The endless silence in the dark was nerve-racking. But what caused the most alarm was the sudden thumping footsteps approaching him.

Dick sat down at the table, so close to him that Jason could feel the heat emanating from his body. The man's hand rested on his bare thigh, making his flesh bounce. Dick wasn't wearing gloves this time, and the temperature of his hands was in direct contact with the naked skin, making goosebumps form.

“Robin, I know you're awake.”

Dick's voice made Jason's body tingle all over. And when he didn't immediately respond, Dick's other hand fell to the side of his head and began caressing his hair.

Jason yelped helplessly at this.

Jason opened his eyes in shock before he almost reached out to bat Dick's hand away. The handcuffs stopped him. The only thing Jason managed was tilting his head in avoidance of the man’s advance, at the same time shooting a look at Dick that could kill.

“How did you know?”

He said, trying to shake off the hand resting on his lap. But Dick applied more pressure to his grip. The hand was unwavering.

Dick shrugged, “Frequency of your breaths. Don't forget that I was also taught by Batman.”

He finished speaking, pressing his thumb into the inside of Jason's knee. Fingers tightened around his leg before Dick gave a sudden sharp tug. Jason yelped as he was forcibly dragged towards his predecessor, unable to resist with his hands still bound.

All his struggles were subdued by a firm press of Dick's elbow. The man looked down at him, his attractive features only a breath away, and Jason could barely form a thought in his mind. Dick's gorgeous blue eyes met with him before the man finally reached out and took off the domino mask still glued onto Jason’s face.

Jason couldn't help but struggle, trying to stop him even though he knew full well that it made no sense trying to keep his identity hidden from his predecessor. Dick took off his mask and put it aside. Jason's face was still streaked with marks of dried tears. The man’s gaze did not drift away from Jason’s face for a single moment, and now his expression took on a thoughtful sentiment. Jason resisted the urge to curl up into himself again. Losing the mask was like losing the last line of self-defense, giving up on even his last bit of privacy and protection. He had never felt as naked as he was now.

“We have four hours to pass,” his predecessor explained in thought.

Dick’s intense stare seemed to allude to something dark. The look in those eyes had Jason drown in his dread, his heart beating against his temples.

“Dick, please.” Swallowing, Jason trembled. “Why are you even doing this to me?”

“You still don't understand,” Dick replied, “‘Robin’ belongs to me. It can only belong to me.”

“But you gave it up!” Jason objected, “it was _you_ who left Batman and the Titans! Gosh, _you_ chose to be Deathstroke’s apprentice, and then _you_ decided to become Renegade! This is all _your_ choice, isn't it?”

The enraged look quickly appearing on Dick's face made Jason immediately regret saying these words.

“But you’ve forgotten how you are just a prisoner here. I call the shots in this place.”

Dick clenched Jason's jaw roughly and placed an aggressive kiss on his closed lips. Jason sobbed and tried to shake the man off. He clenched his teeth and silently resisted the assault, while Dick sucked and tormented his swollen lips with much more harshness.

Jason heard the familiar _pop_ as Dick opened the lid of the lube. Then the wet sound as he squeezed out the gel. Still trapping him in his kiss, Dick grabbed Jason's right leg with one hand and bent it until his abused pinkish hole was spreading out to him. The rim was still exuding cum, and Dick easily inserted two of his lubricated fingers into it.

Jason gasped, but Dick quickly caught his lips again and brutally sucked on them a couple more times before Dick finally withdrew.

He couldn’t even try to ignore the way those fingers were wreaking havoc inside his passage. Jason wasn't ready for Dick to take him again so soon, and the pain accompanied by the feeling of a sensitive area on the front being stimulated made his mind blank out. Dick's fingers dug in his hole, exploring and preparing him for what would come next. The perception of this fate made shame and horror flourish within him. Yet Dick easily ended all of Jason’s struggles with the pressure of his arms and body, and all of Jason’s begs fell on deaf ears.

“Please, Dick,” he implored, weeping, “don't do this to me…”

Dick obviously ignored it. Until his phone started ringing.

The classic _Terminator_ soundtrack came up from inside the man's pocket, catching Dick off-guard, his hands abruptly stopping in their tracks.

“Fuck,” Dick whispered.

He paused, fingers backing out of Jason’s body with a wet gurgle. Using his same hand to keep his support on Jason's knee, Dick took out his phone and quickly glanced at the screen.

The caller ID made the man pause. Dick frowned. He quickly wiped off the lubricant on his hand and tapped to answer. He didn't let go of Jason’s leg, simply holding the phone to his ear.

“Slade, what's the matter?”

The low voice on the other side of the line clearly belonged to Deathstroke. Jason's throat tightened in a moment of dread.

Slade said something indistinguishable to Dick, the exact words lost on Jason. By the time Dick answered the coldness in his voice made Jason's skin crawl, “Your gift is still _alive,_ if that’s what you want to know.”

Pausing again, Dick listened.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” the man said to the phone. He frowned and looked back at Jason, hesitating for a moment before letting go of the boy's leg.

Dick stood up and turned his back to him. With one hand in his pocket, the older man spoke into the phone in a low whisper, "Well, what's the plan, old man?"

Dick listened as Slade gave his instructions. He then muttered an “Understood” and tapped to hang up. Dick huffed in frustration.

“The Teen Titans are concerned about your whereabouts.” Dick thought for a moment, then said, “We won’t have enough time.”

The namedrop on the Titans suddenly made Jason frantic. He struggled in his bond.

“They _will_ find me!”

Dick put away the phone, keeping his back to Jason so that the boy couldn't see his face. “If we leave now, they won't,” he said, turning his head back. Jason saw a subtle emotion change through the man’s eyes. “But it doesn't matter, we’ll have plenty of time in the future.”

Jason felt a coldness slowly creeping upon his back.

Dick approached him again, this time taking the key out of his pocket.

“Get up,” he said, “we need to get you cleaned up.”

+++

Dick roughly shoved Jason into the bathroom.

The bathroom was close to where they were, just at the end of the dark training room. Contrary to this shady, underground base full of gears and machinery, the bathroom was both large and bright, with a huge mirror mounted above a spacious and clean washstand, a multifunctional bathtub, and a shower curtain in a clean light blue color.

Passing by the mirror, Jason couldn't help but tighten his grip on the Robin cape wrapped around himself, refusing to look at his abused, naked reflection covered with marks and bruises.

Dick ripped the yellow cloak off of Jason’s body before he pushed him into the spacious and luxurious shower. The man shut the shower curtain behind them. Before he could blurt out a retort, Jason's hands were once again chained to the metal towel rack. The panic made him struggle again.

“Let me go!” he cried, “I know how to shower on my own, thank you very much!”

But Dick just turned on the showerhead and tested the water temperature on his hand.

“Negative,” the man replied, “you’ll wet those stitches I worked hard on.”

Dick rolled up his sleeves and pushed Jason's shoulders so he faced the wall. The boy was trembling all over, but when the water actually washed over him, the temperature was just right. The warm but not scalding water quickly flooded his violated body, while Dick gently wiped him up with a wet towel, washing him.

The water washed away the cum staining his chest and abdomen, and those flowing down the inside of his thighs. Dick did in fact delicately avoid the injury on his left thigh, rinsing away the sticky residue left on his legs and buttocks. Jason gasped and tensed as the man inserted his fingers into his hole to draw out the remaining cum. He gripped the chain of the handcuffs with both hands.

Dick was too slow and took too long to clear the semen from inside him. It was almost impossible to keep his calm. The water quickly washed the cum down the shower drain. Then, Dick soaked his sweaty hair, shampooed them, and washed the foam off.

Finally, Dick wrapped Jason in a huge bath towel. Dick wiped the water droplets from his hair, then left to rummage through the closet outside the bathroom, finding a top and a pair of pants too large for him, tossing them towards Jason along with keys to his handcuffs.

“My clothes don't fit well,” Dick said, “but it's better than nothing. There’s no way I’d let you keep the Robin uniform.”

Jason let out a growl from the back of his throat. Instead of giving Dick the satisfaction of an answer, he ignored him in favor of quickly unlocking the cuffs and changing into the new clothes.

It was a red T-shirt, so big it could easily cover Jason's entire torso to his hips. For the trousers, he had to pull up the legs to avoid the hem reaching the ground. Jason was evading Dick's eyes while changing, so he didn’t notice as the man went through the medical fridge behind him. Being so unprepared when Dick approached from behind was another, even bigger mistake.

When Jason finally felt a sharp needle pierce his arm, dread immediately swallowed him. Jason tried to struggle, but the drug was already working through his system.

“-When you wake up-” before losing the last bit of his consciousness, one last thing he heard was Renegade’s voice gradually receding into the distance- “we’ll be in a whole different city.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are all very appreciated!


	3. Caged

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason woke up in his new prison.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a little shorter than the previous two but I think it stopped at the most reasonable time.
> 
> No warnings for this one except mention of non-con which happened in the last chapter.

If Jason ever saw someone approach him with another syringe brimming with an unknown liquid again, he’d go mad.

When he opened his eyes, and the first thing he saw was machine gears rotating in perpetual cycles in a hollowed-out roof—all those cogs and screws clinking with noises that rang tumultuously in his ears—Jason immediately knew that he was in trouble. _Again._

It was an empty little cell, and he seemed to be lying on a single metal cot. The dim sunlight came from a small square paned opening at least two meters above the floor—the only window in this room—as narrow and oppressive as ones found in medieval dungeons. The gaping door next to the bed looked like it led into a bathroom, and in the distance, there was what seemed like a locked entrance. A desk lamp stood on the nightstand.

Jason wanted to sit up and take in his surroundings. But as soon as his rising motion became a little too rapid he fell back onto the bed disoriented, the aches of his body wringing a moan out of him. Jason immediately raised his hands to inspect his wrists, having heard metal clinking as he moved.

The scene in front of him seemed to be stuck in a perpetual convulsion, and it took his eyes over ten seconds to regain their focus. Jason finally saw his hands against a backdrop of rotating gears, and on his wrists wore a pair of shackles about the thickness of three human fingers combined. The metal surfaces were smooth enough to mirror the horrified expression on his face. They were attached to a couple of chains, and the interiors of the cuffs were lined with cotton and velvet paddings, ironically to bring just a little comfort to their long-term wearer.

At this very moment, no word could describe the panic and fear that seized Jason's heart.

He suddenly remembered exactly how he was attacked during the mission, and how the tracker in his leg was forcibly cut away. He also remembered what happened after.

For the first time after being ambushed by Defiance, the whole situation finally sank in—him, held against his will in Deathstroke’s liar, located some place Jason didn’t recognize, while they stripped away anything containing a tracking signal from him. And what exactly Renegade had done to him finally took form in his mind, and he suddenly became way too aware of where all the soreness of his body came from.

And Jason also remembered what Renegade said to him. _It seems like I will have to keep you in chains._ Dick did exactly that.

When his vision finally stopped spinning, Jason sat up despite his discomfort, swinging his feet over the side of the bed, and began checking on his surroundings. The headboard comprised thin metal bars, and his manacles were fixed to the wall through the frame. The chains were thicker than his thumbs, but at least they were long, giving him enough room to enter and exit the bathroom and even move freely within his cell.

Jason stretched his legs for his toes to touch the ground. The contact of his bare feet with the cool wooden floor caused a shudder to shoot through him. It was more difficult to support his own body than he thought, especially when he wasn’t just trying to resist the sedatives still partially in his system but also the physical aches, and the aggravation that his injury had caused him. Jason hissed in pain. The first thing he did was lifting the hem of his pants to inspect the wound on his leg. Peeling off the gauze, Jason tentatively poked at the stitches, dried blood still visible at its edges, and he winced from the sting it caused.

Trying not to put too much pressure on his leg, Jason walked around the bed to inspect the small bathroom. Unsurprisingly, there wasn’t a single window in the tiny chamber that was even remotely plausible as an escape exit. He left the bathroom and pushed the bed under the cell window to use as a stand before climbing on it, attempting an escape through the opening. But this didn’t work either. The window was too high off the ground and was too small to fit the body size of a fifteen-year-old, anyway. When he tried to inspect the entryway, Jason realized that his chains were too short for him to reach there. Even as he tried to stretch out his body as much as he could, only his toes could touch the doorframe.

“Let me out!” he screamed, thirst making his voice rough, yet Jason didn't even know who he was calling to.

As expected, the only thing he got in return was silence. Jason lowered his head and couldn't stop himself from letting out a sob. He said the following words while choked full of tears.

“Please- let me out!”

Again, no responses came. This time Jason shouted despite the strain on his vocal cord, "Motherfuckers!"

The only response he got was the mechanical sound of the revolving cogs. The ceiling of the cell was an open structure just like Deathstroke's base in Jump City, where countless operating machineries worked within its structure. Jason figured that the entire base was probably a huge working engine. Other than that, except for a row of heating vents at the foot of the window, the empty room was almost entirely composed of solid cement with no gaps and no cracks or corners where he could scavenge small useful tools from, and naturally, there was also nothing that he could find to use for prying locks.

The only other things were the bed that he’s chained to, and the locked nightstand. On top of it stood the only lamp in the entire room, along with three sealed bottles of water and a stainless steel tray with a halved sandwich placed upon it.

Jason swallowed as he carefully approached the table. It was a tuna sandwich, obviously here because whoever locked him up didn’t want him to starve. The food looked like it had been sitting there for a bit, only making Jason believe that Dick had left him here all alone to rot. Knowing this couldn’t comfort him one bit.

The sight of the sandwich made Jason's stomach growl involuntarily. Having food positioned in front of him reminded him he had consumed no calories for an unknown length of time. But right now, eating was the last thing on Jason’s mind.

Jason had entered a state of panic. His heartbeat sped up from no apparent cause, and his breaths were too fast-paced, making him woozy and sick. This wasn’t even the first time that someone kidnapped Robin, and Jason should be able to handle his own better. But knowing that it was Slade— _Dick—_ who did this, staying calm was nearly impossible. He was undeniably being locked in a cell, and Jason had no idea where on earth he was—not even knowing what’s the current _continent_ he was on.

Jason shut his eyes, forcing himself to remember the breathing exercises that Bruce had taught him, trying to calm his nerves and get through his panic attack. But doing so was difficult, and Jason felt that it became gradually harder to breathe. The cell seemed small and shut-off; it made him claustrophobic. Jason wasn't sure that a tiny window like the one in the room was adequate in ensuring enough oxygen to reach his lungs.

Jason bent down and groaned in pain. His throat was scratchy and his body was shaking. He hyperventilated until he became light-headed. So Jason sat himself down on the floor, his back against the cranny between the bed and the nightstand.

Jason buried his face in his arms and forced back a sob. He was going to survive this; it’s not like this was going to be such a big deal for Robin. But Jason felt the smothering despair nonetheless. 

The reason for his misfortune was only that Deathstroke believed Dick would want this; because Jason was a _present_ that Slade used to please Dick. Like how it was _every single time._ No matter what happened to Jason, the cause of his misery was always because of someone else—like with his mother, how she selfishly destroyed her life and his with her addiction; and like with his asshole father, who never had the chance to make it out of prison. Jason had played the victim for others for as long as he could remember. And it was because he just always happened to be standing in their crosshairs; because he was the one person unlucky enough to be Dick's successor.

During his training as Robin, Bruce had told him that no matter how bad the situation became, he had to hold on and make it through until he could count on Batman's rescue. In any case, obey the kidnapper's demands and keep himself alive. Because their goal had to be Batman himself, and Robin was but a bait used to lure out the Bat. Jason bitterly choked out a laugh. It might be a different scenario this time, after all.

Jason curled up at where he sat. The chains entangled his body like two long and slender snakes, providing him with a sense of security. Jason didn’t eat or drink anything there for him. Even if he could trust that they weren’t poisoned, he was lacking in both strength and will to get up and eat.

It was getting dark, long shadows spreading across the room, and even moonlight couldn't shine through the pathetically small window. The fallen darkness made the already exhausted teen feel even more drowsy. Before realizing it, Jason was fast asleep. Yet his dozing was restless as nightmares kept striking him awake, and then he’d have no choice but to doze off shivering again. The night felt longer than any other night he had experienced.

In this nightmarish cycle of keep on nodding off and waking up again, the sky gradually lightened.

Jason had no concept of time. There weren't any clocks, and anything he used to possess that could discern time was taken away from him. Jason had no idea what time it was when the door of his cell opened. He was only vaguely aware that the cool-toned morning light was shining through the small window, and he was curled up beside the bed, hovering at the edge of consciousness.

He heard the turning of a key; the lock snapped open, and a pair of canvas shoes stood on the fluorescent-illuminated porcelain beyond the curb. Feet casually stepped into the room before the door was closed behind them, sounding steady footsteps as they approached.

But the footfall quickly slowed down as its owner hesitated. Then the young man's voice calmly spoke up, “My God.”

Jason’s only reply to the exclamation was a silent frown.

The footsteps only paused for a few seconds before approaching him again. The man bent down to place a metal tray on the nightstand, then the bed sank beside him as Renegade sat down on the sheets.

A cool hand rested on his forehead. He heard the man’s soft hum before a command followed it

“Get up,” Grayson said, “get on the bed.”

When Jason didn't respond to him, Dick huffed out a sigh.

“You’re burning up. You need to go back to bed.”

Jason only understood half of what the man had said. He could make out the word “bed”, but it produced no meaning in his head. After a pause, when Jason still hadn’t moved, he heard the rustling sound as Dick got up. Then felt the body heat emitted as the man leaned towards him, followed by a kind of heart-racing trepidation as he felt two strong arms wrap under his armpit and knees.

Yet this simple touch immediately triggered recent memories, enough that it alarmed him. Jason wriggled in Dick's arms, protests coming out of him as weak whines. But the sluggish resistance brought on by his weakened limbs was nothing to his captor. Dick carried Jason back onto the bed, and Dick carefully pulled his arm from under him as soon as the soft sheet touched his shivering back.

Lying on the bed, the soreness of Jason’s body brought a pained moan out of him. But there’s no doubt that the warm bed was at least a little comforting. Renegade then stood up again as a gentle voice came forth from him.

“Wait here. I'll be back soon,” he said.

Footsteps left, the door locked the same moment it closed. By the time it opened up again, Jason was all but aroused by the sound of the unlocking door from another one of his dimly remembered dreams. He shuddered, and in his peripherals, he saw the casually clothed young man approach him with a down blanket and a box of medicine in his hand.

Dick placed the medicine on the nightstand before sitting down, causing a dent to form on the mattress. He unrolled the blanket in his hand and draped it over Jason's body.

“There's nothing to be alarmed about,” Dick whispered, “all the sex, the kidnapping, and the sedatives had the combined effect of damaging your immunity, and the fever is just a reasonable outcome.”

It was all too easy for him to explain this chain of reasons. Jason didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. If it weren't for his lack of energy right now, he probably would’ve placed a fist into Grayson's beautiful yet repulsive face.

The man’s hand gently touched his forehead again. Dick's knuckles almost felt cold next to Jason’s feverish skin.

“Have you drank any water since you woke up?”

Jason frowned, reaching out to push Dick's hand away. It took him a great effort to do just that. Dick then quietly retrieved his arm, and Jason could feel those cobalt blue eyes burning into his skin.

“Don't touch me,” Jason swallowed before making the difficult remark. Hearing his own hoarse voice almost made Jason shiver. Yet he couldn't help but blurt out, “it’s you- you did this to me ... you kidnapped me, locked me up, and also you- you-”

He couldn't go on. Jason couldn't help but sob, and suddenly he felt Dick's hand gently combing through the messy hair on one side of his face, smoothing out a few strays there.

“I know you're upset.”

Immediately after the man said this, he turned around and took something off the nightstand. Then there was the sound of a cap screwing open from a plastic bottle, Dick suddenly caught Jason's back in his grasp, while he propped up the pillow behind him to use as a backrest. Even before the boy gasped out, he felt the mouth of the bottle at his lips.

“Drink it. It will make you feel better.”

Jason did not argue with this.

He opened his mouth to accept any nourishment willingly given to him. Greedily drank every drop of liquid that provided him with the essentiality to live on, like he was a caged bird seeking food from within its captor’s open palms. Different from any of the ideal scenarios that he used to dream about. But it was his only option right now.

Dick didn't retrieve the bottle until Jason drank most of the water in it. The man's palm rested flat on the sheets on the other side of him, and this posture of an almost-embrace shouldn’t have caused Jason’s heartbeat to increase so much in intensity like it did. It was also at this moment when he noticed that Dick was holding a thermometer in his hand.

“Open up.” It was a private whisper, way too tender for this man. “It's already disinfected.”

Jason had no reason to oppose it. So he simply opened his mouth and obediently took in the measuring instrument.

“Place it under your tongue,” Dick instructed, “yeah, just like that. Then close your lips around it.”

He had to have looked ridiculous with a thermometer sticking out of his mouth. But Dick wasn't looking at him. The man was busy unpacking the fever medication, piercing through the tinfoil package inside before taking out two green capsules.

The thermometer beeped a few times. When Dick pulled it out, Jason almost forgot to relax his lips. This prompted the man to cast a subtly suggestive look at him in amusement. Jason couldn't prevent the shade of pink from spreading across his cheeks.

Holding the thermometer in his hand, the way Dick looked as he calmly read the numbers was almost funny to Jason. It’s as if his captor really cared—even though Jason was undoubtedly still a prisoner, with those sturdy shackles restraining his wrists.

He heard Dick make a soft humming sound.

“A hundred point four degrees,” he said, “no doubt you are having a fever. But you’ll be fine.”

Jason frowned. When Dick approached him again, Jason tried to turn away. A hand gripped his jaw and forced him to turn his face. As Jason weakly protested, a thumb pried open his teeth, and a large pea-sized capsule was pushed between his lips and pressed against his tongue. Followed by another.

“It's just sick medication, nothing you should worry about,” Dick whispered, “just trust me.”

 _Why should I trust you? You, my predecessor, had kidnapped me, assaulted me, and locked me in this damned place with chains and shackles._ Jason wanted to cry. Jason wanted to fucking laugh.

But he didn’t spit out the capsules, and even as Dick was busy unscrewing the bottle cap he obediently waited, until he felt the familiar touch of the spiraled mouth on his lower lip, and the refreshing liquid flushed both pills down his throat.

“Do you want anything to eat?” Dick asked after tightening the bottle, “I know your appetite is probably not ideal right now. But since you are sick, it’s even more important to take in some calories.”

Jason coughed.

“Go away, stay away from me,” he said bitterly. Although his voice sounded better than before, it was still rather hoarse.

“How about traditional chicken soup and noodles then? I can ask Joey to make it.”

“Whatever,” Jason said scornfully, and had already started to shift the pillows to lie down again, “just leave me alone.”

Unexpectedly, Dick just arranged his pillow and helped him lay down without putting up a fuss, shifting the chains for him so that the boy could sleep a little more comfortably. After Jason laid down purposefully with his back towards Dick, the man helpfully draped the blanket over him. Jason tightly shut his eyes and pretended to be asleep, intentionally ignoring the other person in the room. He felt Dick sit quietly behind him for a few moments before speaking up.

“Stay here. I’ll bring food.”

Jason couldn’t remember when exactly Dick had left. By the time the door clicked shut he had already fallen asleep.

When he woke up for the third time, the smell of chicken soup was filling Jason’s nostrils. So was the smell of homey herbs, like thyme and bay leaves. He couldn't help but open his eyes and look behind, staring at the bright yellow-colored soup filled with spiral pasta in a bowl placed on a metal tray, and Jason swallowed.

Dick had brought in a chair to sit by his bed. Upon seeing him rousing, the older boy's gaze lifted from the screen in his lap and fell on Jason’s face.

“Good, you're awake,” Dick said. Then he nodded towards the tray.

Jason wanted to swear at him, wanted to tell him to get lost, and to tell him he wouldn’t even so much touch the food his abductors gave him. But as soon as he smelled the soup hunger became an all too powerful sensation and Jason's attitude softened, much to his dismay. So Jason sat up with Dick's help, swung his feet over the side of the bed, took the bowl of chicken soup, and ate.

The noodles tasted amazing, with a powerful aroma of chicken and herbs, within the soup floated pieces of marinated chicken and vegetables—carrots, celery, and onions—cooked to the right thoroughness. It had the taste of home, reminding him of those late-night snacks that Alfred used to cook for him after his nightly patrols in Gotham. This cooking was almost on par with Alfie's.

It had been too long before he had had anything to eat, and Jason had almost forgotten how hungry he was. He quickly stuffed the spiral pasta into his mouth, forgetting the fact that he was still feeling drowsy from the fever. The deliciousness relaxed Jason's nerves, and its warmth reminded him of Wayne Manor. His chest tightened with the sudden homesickness, and Jason ended up having to painfully force down a sob.

He couldn't control this sudden feeling of melancholy. As the food gradually diminished with consumption, tears slipped from his cheeks until Jason could taste his own saltiness from the soup. He kept sobbing, forcing himself to blink away the mistiness in his eyes, and continued devouring the food to shroud his changing mood. Too stubborn to stop, Jason compelled himself to stuff the richly flavored pasta down his mouth even faster. Eventually, Jason was almost swallowing without chewing properly, and the lumpy food ended up stuck in his throat. Then he choked.

Jason coughed desperately until a warm hand patted on his back. Dick handed him something—a piece of soft tissue. Jason snatched it up almost immediately before fiercely wiping at the tears and snot left on his face.

Tears quickly soaked the tissue, so the hand passed him another. Jason sobbed into the paper for quite a long time, and the sound of his cries ended up buried inside his palm and into the wet piece of tissue. His mood only got slightly better after a long while. But by the time Jason finally sobbed for one last time before looking up again, all he saw was Dick staring at him in silence.

Dick was looking up at him. His hands folded loosely against his chest, leaning back onto the backrest of his chair. The look in his eyes was complicated, and the corners of his mouth never moved to reveal any emotions.

Suddenly Jason felt a splinter to his already tumbling pride. He gritted his teeth, tossed the tissue away with a vengeance before it landed on the floor in the distance. Then he all but smashed his half-eaten bowl of soup onto the nightstand. 

“Fuck you, Grayson, stop staring at me!” he shouted at Dick, “you're only being nice to me for me to recover so you can fuck me again!”

The man didn’t answer him. But this was also unbearable to Jason. He had a hunch that whatever Dick did, whether active or passive, was all done as a mockery of him.

“I said stop looking at me, you asshole!”

Jason turned around without waiting for the man's reply and fast laid down on the bed. He covered his head with the blanket and curled up protectively into the shape of a ball, not caring that the chains on his wrists almost strangled him. Fierce heartbeats sounded loudly in Jason's ears, and he couldn't stop more tears from falling out of his eyes.

+++

Jason didn't know how he could even fall asleep in a situation like this. He only knew that when he groggily woke up, it surprised him to find that his predecessor was still sitting casually by his bed as if he never left.

Dick was sitting in the chair by his bed, his feet spread out comfortably beside him, and was looking down at the computer in his lap. Someone had already cleared away the half-empty bowl at the bedside table, and the dirty tissues that Jason threw in his rage were also gone from the floor. The boy's emergence from his nap did not prompt Dick to look up. The man's gaze was glued onto his laptop screen. Jason could hear the sounds of gunfire and explosions from whatever movie he was watching.

He couldn't figure out why his keeper would want to stay by his bed, just like how he couldn't figure out why on earth would Dick want to keep Jason here at all. There was so much about Dick that puzzled Jason, and the unexplained nature of the whole situation scared him.

Jason was pretty sure that Dick had noticed his wakefulness the very moment he came to. However, the older boy didn't display any signs that even remotely suggested he was aware of this. Jason knew the other was just waiting patiently for his first move.

He’s playing with him. Just like a cat waiting for the mouse to make its escape before it pounced.

Jason didn't want to play this game with Grayson. He refused to be the object of the man's entertainment. Even when his freedom and fate were both in the grasp of his enemies, Jason would do his best to deny Dick of what he wanted.

Jason only remained silent for about five minutes before his determination collapsed as he took the initiative to speak.

“Where am I?” he asked.

Dick didn't look up at him, his voice lightly spilled forth from his lips, “Deathstroke’s base.”

“But where?”

This time Dick didn't answer. The man's blue eyes kept glued onto the screen where Jason could hear the sounds of constant hitting and gunshots from a movie fight.

It took over ten seconds before Jason finally deflated and continued, “You’re not gonna tell me, are you?”

“Already planning your escape?” Dick replied.

His predecessor divining his exact thought immediately made Jason lose his confidence. He glanced away and pretended to be oblivious, when he was just trying to hide from his guilt under the blanket.

“...I- was just wondering what kind of hellhole was this place that you’ve dragged me into.”

Dick paused, then he unexpectedly raised his eyes and stared at him in silence.

“You can't fool me, kid. I was Robin before you were. When it comes to the kind of things a Robin thinks about after being abducted, well... I’m more familiar with them than you are.”

Jason stared back at Dick and swallowed the spit in his mouth loudly. The man’s icy blue eyes kept him frozen in place. Jason felt cold all over.

It was then when Dick slightly changed his posture. He sat up straight to face the current Robin more front-on. The humorless expression on his predecessor's face made Jason feel nervous.

“Let me tell you something,” the elder of the two said, “first of all, the entrance of this room automatically locks itself as soon as the door closes. And, even if you _do_ have a key or some kind of lock pick on your hand—and you don’t—you still won’t be getting out of here under my watch. I hope you at least know this.”

Jason's apparent discouragement mustn't have escaped Dick's eyes. So, in order to maintain his already rather insignificant pride, the boy heatedly said, "I figured there’s no harm in asking anyway. I mean, what if you really are an idiot who can't figure out what I'm doing?"

Jason regretted it as soon as he said it. He then watched as Renegade sat up straight, shifted the laptop from his lap to place it on the bed, before leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. The way the man looked as he expressionlessly crowded in on him caused Jason's heart to beat faster with fear. He couldn't help swallowing in his uneasiness, staring anxiously into the man’s frigid eyes.

“Then let's assume for a moment,” the man said calmly to him, “supposed that if you are able to make your escape from this room with success. For someone who’s not familiar with the base, the complex corridors outside alone will likely trap you, or at least slow you down. You might not find the stairs that take you to the ground level, or even find your way out of the couple corridors right outside of this room. Without guidance, you’ll never leave this place before getting caught—and that’s all under the assumption that you can make it through me first,” Dick said, sitting upright in his chair, but his azure eyes didn’t for once leave Jason’s face, “and you and I both know what challenging me would lead to. So stop stressing over something that you can't accomplish.”

Jason stared back at him with defiance. He had to force himself not to tremble under the man’s stare.

“...Why?” After a moment of silence, he asked, “why are you doing this to me? Is this revenge against Bruce... or revenge against the Teen Titans? Is that so?”

“Is it?” Dick repeated, squinting slightly. His tone sounded unsure.

“What the hell do you want from me?”

Dick hummed thoughtfully. His gaze was still fixed on Jason's face, but the look in his eyes had changed from study to thoughtfulness. Jason suspected that even the man himself had no answer to this question.

After a long time had passed, Dick picked up his laptop from the bed, finally giving Jason a meaningful look before resuming his movie.

Jason let out a breath. He realized that finishing this topic was a relief for him. The way Dick meticulously took apart and ridiculed his breakout plan had snuffed out the only glimmer of hope he had, and soon Jason experienced again both the helplessness and hopelessness that had accompanied him from the beginning. He laid back flat on the bed, staring at the moving gears above his head with blurred vision.

It seemed like everything that happened during the previous days was just a dream. His captor was sitting beside his bed without a concern in the world, as if the rape never occurred. When essentially the decider of his fate was even unsure about his future, then why should Jason bother with it either?

“What are you watching?” he couldn’t help but ask.

“An action movie.”

Jason turned his head to face Dick.

“I wanna see too.”

“Negative,” Dick said absentmindedly, “it’s too violent for someone your age.”

The offensive remark made Jason feel defensive. Ignoring how lightheaded he still felt, the boy sat up and grabbed at the computer in the man's lap. “I'm not a kid!”

Dick dodged his hand while simultaneously keeping the computer out of the boy’s reach. Easily grasping Jason's fast-moving wrist, he drew his hand aside by hooking his fingers into a couple of chain links attached to his wrist.

“Stop it.”

“No,” Jason said indignantly, struggling under the man's control, even though the resistance he put up wasn’t helping. 

“What you’re doing is pointless,” Dick said.

“I don’t care.”

Dick frowned, eyes searching on Jason’s face.

“Alright, okay,” he finally said.

Jason heard Dick sigh. Instead of immediately releasing Jason's wrist, he switched to using his other hand to restrain him before reaching into his back pocket to pull out a pocket-sized book.

The man handed the softcover novel to Jason. When the boy acted hesitant, Dick looked at him before gesturing towards the cover with his eyes.

Jason looked down at it. As soon as he made out Jane Austen's name elegantly printed as the author, Dick used the opportunity to pass the book into his hand.

“Bought it when I was ingredients-shopping for Joey this morning,” the man explained, “thought that maybe you’ll get bored by yourself and might appreciate some entertainment. It’s better than watching violent and gory R-rated movies at least.”

The cover art was an oil painting of Elizabeth and Darcy dressed in graceful regency clothing. The beautifully styled title almost had a hypnotic effect on him. Unknowingly to him, Jason was holding it with both hands while staring at it as if being possessed.

“How-how do you know?”

Dick shrugged. “A lucky guess, I supposed.”

Not a very convincing excuse, but Jason didn’t call him out on it. The way Grayson understood him so well was already incredibly frightening to him. There’s no need to continue fumbling with _this_ Pandora's box.

His resistance gradually softened, and Jason held the book to his chest. He pouted.

“Nothing special. I've already read this book countless times, anyway.”

Dick narrowed his eyes for a moment, and it was clear from his expression that he didn’t believe a word Jason was trying to say.

“Of course you did, kid. Of course,” he said.

But Dick didn’t avert his gaze. There was a hint of contemplation in the man’s expression, and this paired with the unusual blues of his eyes made Jason feel uneasy.

He swallowed, but continued to stare back at the man daringly. Now inspecting him more closely under the lamplight, Jason could easily make out Dick’s honey-gold skin, his well-sculpted features, and those lips pursed in his musings. Suddenly and all too clearly, the boy remembered the blazing heat of this man's skin, his overbearing kiss, and the feeling of being helplessly trapped in his arms. This made him speechless for a while as blood found its way onto his cheeks, causing his already feverish skin to grow even hotter.

Jason jumped at Dick's sudden movement. But all the man did was to put away the computer from his lap.

“Don't read till too late. You still have a fever, so try to get to bed earlier,” he said, unplugging the charger.

Dick then got up, holding the folded laptop, standing by the bed with hair draped over his shoulders. The steady look on his face when he looked down was enough to make Jason nervous.

“There is medicine on the table,” the man said, nodding towards the two green capsules placed under the lamp along with the extra bottles of water, “remember to drink enough water. Take the pills before you go to bed.”

Jason pouted before retorting in his anger, “You're not the boss of me. I don't have to listen to you.”

“Just take them, alright?”

He then watched as Dick took out the key to open the locked door from the inside, stepping into the fluorescent-lit hallway. Jason held the book tighter, eyes boring into the man’s back as he disappeared behind the closing door.

The door did in fact lock automatically as soon as it closed, just like Dick said it would.

Jason realized that there’s no way for him to open the door by himself without some kind of tool. Jason’s only chance to escape would be during the brief intervals of when his captors either enter or exit the room. But Jason knew it was practically impossible to escape while being supervised by someone like Dick. Also, the shackles he wore made sure that he couldn't leave, anyway.

Unless there was some way to convince Dick to unlock his handcuffs. Jason looked down at the restraints on his wrists, tentatively shifting it, listening to the sound of the collision between the chain and the manacles.

What if there was really a way to convince Dick to do this for him?

Any thoughts on his future escape became irrelevant as soon as he opened the book. The classic obsessed Jason despite having read it countless times in the past, and he immediately forgot any worries he used to have. If it weren't because he could barely keep his eyes open after reading for a while, it’s not at all impossible that Jason might’ve forgotten to sleep at all.

He didn’t forget to take the medicine on his bedside before shutting off the light, despite how much he hated the way Dick demanded it. The fever medication had the bonus of making him drowsy. During the first night of his imprisonment, Jason slept like a pig.

The whole thing was a fucking irony.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since the whole thing happened with AO3 shutting off hit counts from logged out users, may I ask for comments if you are still reading & enjoying it? I'll take anything, like just one word or one emoji, etc. Just something to let me know you're still following. If you can't though, that's cool too.
> 
> Kudos are very appreciated also!
> 
> See ya next chapter!


	4. Violation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things were more complicated than they appeared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who'd left a comment! They mean a lot and always make me smile when I see them! 
> 
> WARNING for this chapter: the same ones from chapter 2, Underage and Non-Con/Extremely dubious consent. Plus voyeurism near the end. Slade is a very creepy dude.
> 
> There's an illustration in this chapter! It's near the end of the chapter and has all the same warnings as the chapter itself. Plus it's a NSFW image. So, ya know, heads up?

Walking in the next morning, Dick almost instantly caught Jason trying to open the window latch from the inside.

Jason stood on the nightstand that he’d stacked on top of the bed, uselessly squeezing his shoulders through the tiny frame, barely big enough for his head.

Jason didn't notice the _click_ when the door unlocked. It snapped open and a set of approaching footsteps shocked the boy. He lost his footing, unceremoniously falling off of the nightstand.

Fortunately, a mishap like this was not at all a problem for Robin. Jason successfully grabbed onto the metal headboard in time and landed with a rather graceful flip, only allowing a painful expression to show at the moment of landing, caused by the strain on his injured leg.

Jason's heartbeat was still speeding up long after he firmly planted his feet. What made the boy more nervous was, as he looked up, the first thing he saw was Grayson leaning against the frame of the door with his head unhurriedly tilted, a tray of breakfast in his hands. The man's shoulder-length hair draped over his form, one could even describe the look he gave Jason as _amused._

Jason quickly concealed the pain of his injured limb and stood up, forcing himself to put on a calm facade in order to cover up the rapid rate of his heart, pounding so hard it nearly burst out of his chest.

“How did it go?” Dick said.

“I-what?”

“I _said,”_ Dick emphasized, this time the smirk at the corners of his mouth slightly faded, “how’s your breakout plan going?”

Jason blushed at his obvious sarcasm. He opened his mouth to refute, but the tension on his nerves kept him from speaking.

“I wasn’t ... trying to break out,” he finally said.

“I think even without using proper measurement it’s clear you won’t be able to fit in there-”

“I knew that.”

“-or else I’d never have arranged for you to stay in this room, to begin with.”

“I said I know!” Jason was practically fuming out of his ears.

But Dick simply responded with a shrug. He stood upright near the door and commanded, “Put the furniture back in place, I’ll then pretend this little stunt of yours never happened.”

Jason wanted to sass and ridicule him, instead of obediently following orders. But his self-doubt and the way his meal looked in Dick’s hands eventually provoked Jason to do exactly what the man had asked.

Dick casually walked up to the nightstand Jason had struggled to push back in place and set down the tray of breakfast.

The stainless steel tray held meals for two. On one of the small dishware placed a couple of toasts lightly browned on both sides, and on the other a halved bagel. There was also hazelnut spreading and packets of cream cheese, and two mugs that held different beverages.

Jason, who had just finished restoring the bed to where it was, walked to the farthest corner of the furniture and stiffly sat down, making sure there was enough distance between Dick and himself. Then, like a scared cat, he gazed at the man now standing beside the table with unfaltering eyes, only spending half a second to dart his eyes down towards the tray.

“Why, you didn’t have breakfast either before you came here?” he taunted cooly in order to ease the atmosphere, yet his voice trembled with nervousness.

Although last night he’d fallen asleep rather quickly because of the fever, Jason still woke up early at dawn. On his mind were fragmented dreams that he had during last night’s restless sleep, with the ghostly sensation of rough ropes restraining his wrists to a metal rail, a couple of hands that continuously provided him with insane pleasure, and the heated embrace of a toned torso and muscled arms. 

He woke up with a hardened cock at his crotch. The arousal confused Jason, yet still he had to endure the loneliness of being in this cramped, quiet, and depressing room, even after he’d awoken from his nightmares, struggling with these meaningless contradictory feelings for his abuser. He didn't want to waste more time in his pathetic self-pity, so Jason tried to get a hold of himself and stood on the nightstand he could stack on top of the bed for his first attempt. Although he'd never really started off having high hopes, it still frustrated Jason when he realized that he couldn't squeeze his body through the window.

But he didn’t really expect Dick to catch him red-handed. Just remembering the incident now was making Jason anxious. On one hand, the more rebellious part of him was almost _please_ d that Grayson could witness his attempt at leaving; his fears still made him shudder with anxiety. He was afraid that his intent would appear too obvious and would lead to closer supervision by his captor; and he also feared that his rebellious behavior might even prompt Dick to impose some kind of punishment on him.

Dick looked up and gave Jason a meaningful look, and it disturbed Jason that he could not discern any thoughts through the expression. The man calmly picked up the cup of cold milk and handed it to him. When he took it, the brief touch of Dick's fingers almost made Jason drop the mug. After he scrambled to catch it, Grayson immediately turned around and spread the cream cheese on his own half of the crispy bagel with a butter knife.

Jason held the milk and watched Dick pick up his mug of dark coffee and took a long sip before biting off half of the bagel. Jason didn't move, eyes unblinking.

Then he said, "I want coffee."

Dick turned around and his eyes widened with slight surprise. He couldn't speak well with his mouth full, and Jason ended up paying too much attention to how pleasing the man looked in his cotton top with his sleeves rolled up, even though the words he spoke right after were annoying to Jason. "Milk is better for someone your age."

A flush washed over Jason's face. He believed it was out of indignation rather than something else.

"I'm not a kid!" He yelled at Dick.

But Dick just pointed to his plate and said, "It's getting cold."

Jason deliberately made the cup clink when he all but smashed it onto the table. Then he grabbed the toast from his plate and spread the cocoa hazelnut onto it vigorously. These were but the stuff they feed children to distract them. Even Alfred hadn’t fed him these insulting baby foods for a very long time.

Dick chewed on the bagel and took a sip of strong coffee to help himself swallow it.

“How's your fever?” He suddenly asked.

Jason paused right before he was about to bite down. He then cautiously looked up at Dick.

“Why are you asking?”

“Just trying to show that I care, kid. Don't be ungrateful.”

Jason didn't believe a word the man had just said. But he couldn't say it out loud, so he simply swallowed his spit nervously. Jason was sure that the nature of his apprehension did not escape his predecessor’s scrutiny. The thoughtful gaze Dick cast towards him made Jason shudder.

Jason wanted to speak up and ask again what plans Dick had for him, just like yesterday, like it was a daily occurrence. But he had a hunch he still won’t get any satisfactory answer this time. So he simply bit into his hazelnut-laden toast, pretending that the rich cocoa flavor only children could love absolutely did not entrance him.

After Dick finished his bagel, the man crossed his arms over his chest and drank his coffee while stared attentively at Jason. There was a light in his eyes that almost looked sentimental.

“Does Beast Boy still make vegan breakfasts these days?” The man suddenly questioned.

This caught Jason unexpectedly. "Huh?" he asked.

“Garfield,” Dick clarified, “does he still cook using soy products and force everyone to eat them?”

The embarrassing memory of being coaxed into eating bacon and eggs made entirely out of tofu suddenly came to mind, and Jason couldn't help but accidentally swallow a mouthful of the toast before chewing, then he painfully coughed a few times.

“He... yeah, he still does.”

Dick chuckled. It was only a bittersweet cackle, but it’s still the first time in the past few days that Jason heard the man sporting a genuine laughter. Jason had mixed feelings about this, yet there's no way he could express his skepticism in front of his captor.

“Victor refused to eat anything with no meat in it. Rae had only sassed Gar's enthusiasm,” Dick said, his smile suddenly falling at the corners, “there's only ... Kori. Only she truly appreciated Gar's cooking.”

Jason didn't know what to say, so he simply remained silent.

Dick then turned away and allowed himself to immerse in his memories. Jason had to force himself not to care. It didn’t matter whether there’s still humanity left in his captor - he hadn’t forgotten for a single moment what exactly this man had done to him, just as he hadn’t forgotten Dick’s unshakable gaze and the excruciating pain as he'd pushed into his body despite how hard Jason begged - he simply chose not to think about it. Didn't think about it at all. Right then Jason only cared about one thing... and one thing was enough.

There's no use thinking about things that won’t change anything either way. _Just remember your training._ _Remember what Batman had taught you._

He took the milk and drank it. Yet what Jason's truly trying to do was to hide his own self-conscious expression behind the ivory china cup.

He could _not_ let Renegade find out what he was planning. The man simply couldn’t know that the same moment he turned around, Jason had looked him over to figure out in which pocket he’d hidden the keys.

Damn Jason if he wasn’t making use of his every living second trying to find a way out of this hell. It didn’t matter what his dreams were last night, neither was what he thought of Dick. That the memories of his predecessor forcibly taking and dominating him in his dreams made a trail of heat run down his torso and accumulate in his lower abdomen (because he _liked_ it, even if the act hurt him) and the confusing emotions that came with it was not important in the slightest. Nothing mattered besides his need to leave this place.

Because, to contemplate on a way to get out of here... it's million times easier than driving himself crazy in remembering time and time again on how the man he’d once admired had violated ( _raped)_ him with no regard to his wishes.

+++

This rather unusual peace between Jason and his predecessor didn’t last for more than half a day.

It was during that same afternoon when Dick came to Jason's cell for a visit.

Jason was leaning with his back to his pillow, reading his book with his feet crossed comfortably on the bed. Warm sunlight came in from the small window, brightening the pages of Jason’s copy of _Pride and Prejudice_ along with the golden halo of the bedside lamp. 

Upon hearing the door unlocking, Jason’s body responded with alert wakefulness. He uncrossed his legs and draped them at the side of the bed, staring nervously at the newcomer slowly pushing the door open. He was getting ready for the inevitable conflict that was coming.

Dick apparently had just finished a round of training. He was wearing a black suit that’s made for effortless movement and a pair of lightweight lace-up leather boots, and he had drops of sweat still resting on his forehead.

The man hadn’t shut the door properly as he entered, but Jason wasn't stupid enough to excite himself upon the sight of the entrance ajar. He could tell that something was on Dick's mind, and there was a dark look in the man’s eyes that made Jason uneasy. Something must have happened. And Jason knew very well that whatever caused Grayson’s shift in mood couldn’t be good.

Jason’s shoulders tensed before he knew it, his eyes fixed on Dick as he approached. Jason tried to read his expression, but Dick’s face revealed no emotion.

As he reached the bed, Jason shrunk back on instinct. Yet Dick wasn’t looking at him. He took a copper key from his pocket—it was a small, simple key, the only one of its kind held in a single metal ring, and not the key _Jason actually needed to get out of here—_ and inserted it into the keyhole on the locked nightstand. Only then did Dick turn his head to face Jason, the latter shrinking into himself.

Ignoring Jason's attempt to back away, Dick leaned forward and held his head between his gloved hands. The harshness made Jason hiss in pain before briefly shutting his eyes. When Jason opened them again, Dick had leaned into his space, his face occupying Jason's line of vision as he touched his forehead with Jason’s, testing his temperature.

Jason didn’t dare to move.

“Are you feeling alright?” Dick asked. Warm breaths hitting Jason's collarbone.

Jason turned his face, feeling nervous. “I’m fine.”

Dick made a small noise of acknowledgement. By the time he stepped back, Jason's face was fiery red like a tomato. Too dazed to contemplate his situation, he never noticed when the light in Dick’s eyes turned thoughtful and dark. He similarly didn’t notice when his predecessor picked up the bookmark he’d left on the nightstand and inserted it into the opened page in his hand.

Then, ignoring Jason's protests, Dick drew the book out of his hand and laid it flat on the table.

Jason’s heart shrank in fear. Horror pulsated in his temple as he loudly swallowed, sensing something was very, _very,_ wrong.

“Good,” Dick whispered.

Then, as Jason looked on horrified, Dick crowded in on him. Jason covered his head with his hands in defense, like how he was used to doing on the streets. But all he’d felt was a hand, dressed in combat gloves, held onto the little groove between the back of his head and his neck, and pushed his head downwards.

Multiple thoughts went through Jason’s head when Dick pushed him face-down onto the sheets. This voice of reason screamed at him—act now, resist, do _something,_ please anything but _that—_ and that he had trusted Dick too soon and he was too naïve and now he must pay for the sin of his trust and would face the violation _again._

But the loudest voice was Jason’s brain telling him he’d finally figured out Dick’s intention with him. _Were you not so insistent on asking him what he’d planned for you, like a doomed fool?_ To keep Jason as some form of twisted doll to fuck, to use him and to unleash his anger out at him whenever he pleased. It turned out _this_ was Dick’s intention all along.

But something must have occurred, or else Dick wouldn’t have changed so quickly. What Dick was doing was uncannily reminiscent of someone desperate to find an outlet for their anger.

Dick suppressed Jason’s panicked attempt to push him off. He then restrained Jason’s wrists to the small of his back with his other hand. The chain clanged with the rough treatment before Dick forced Jason face-down onto the bed.

Jason’s face ended up in the sheets, the soft cloth muffling his whimper. The muscles of his limbs tensed and trembled with the sudden fight-or-flight response brought on by the immediate danger. Jason’s body shook under Dick’s pressure on him, his efforts going nowhere as if his entire body was a tightened spring. The dawning realization of what’s coming next had brought back Jason’s hazy dreams of last night. The yearning he was trying to forget burned inside his every vein like an inferno. Hot embers flowed beneath his skin.

Dick took hold of Jason’s waist from beneath him and lifted his hips, letting his ass hang in the air. The older boy made a rustling sound behind him. Dick took something off. By the time he went back to stroke the sides of Jason's body—his large shirt had slipped off to reveal his hot flesh—the callused but warm hands were gloveless.

Dick’s crotch pressed on Jason’s ass, a hard erection already rubbing at the crack between his cheeks. Dick’s fingertips gently stroked Jason's sides as they slid up along the boy’s sensitive spine. One hand found a nipple still hidden underneath his shirt, rubbing and rolling at it between his fingers. Jason made a high-pitched gasp.

“I've just heard that they have found your tracker,” Dick said. Jason's breathing paused as he tried to ignore the stroking and kneading Dick was doing to the pink bud on his chest. Instead, he tried to concentrate on listening to the information that the man was giving him. Dick wasn’t in a hurry, the gentler his movements were, the crueler his actions seemed.

“Cyborg was able to track it down with Grid. Tara made sure to send it far away into the forests before we left Jump City. They’ll never trace it back to you here.”

Jason couldn’t help sobbing at that. Or maybe he sobbed because what Dick was doing with his fingers?

Dick reached over and rolled Jason’s shirt up until it was winding around his wrists, intertwining with his shackles like another set of restraints. He pulled at Jason’s trousers. Jason tried to struggle, but his clothes completely trapped his limbs, tying his hands and feet like ropes.

“Dick, please,” Jason begged. “Don't do this, you're better than this.”

He trembled. Memories of the first painful encounter came back to him. And now, knowing that the Titans won’t be coming to his rescue, Jason felt helpless. 

Dick made an absentminded sound.

He placed little pecks all over Jason’s bare ass, lips tracing the spine upwards, kissing his sensitive back with gentle and experienced smooches. As he traced his warm tongue along the contour of Jason’s shoulder blade, he couldn’t hold back a moan. The feel of arousal mixed with fear as Jason trembled, couldn’t summon up enough strength to beg.

“I heard what they said through the little tapping device we planted nearby. It's absurdly upsetting to hear your title coming out of their mouths,” Dick said between kisses, a hint of aversion accompanying the lewd sounds of his smacking lips. “You _do_ know that they only care about their sense of responsibility, with you being their new addition, correct? _I'm_ the only Robin that the Teen Titans acknowledges.”

Soft lips suckled on his back, leaving Renegade’s marks all over his skin. Dick's long hair hung onto his naked flesh and tickled him. Jason gasped, clutching the sheets with both hands as if trying to hold on to some anchor.

“So th-that's why, is it?” Jason tried to calm himself before speaking, an inadvertent sarcasm found its way into his voice. “You're bitter because you’re jea-jealous, so you’ve made me your scapegoat, coming here to find me as soon as you’ve gotten the news—even leaving your tra-training to do so—ah!”

Fingers pulled apart Jason’s buttocks, a warm tongue found the entrance between his cheeks. Jason’s body collapsed. It’s a feeling he’d never experienced before in his life, not even in his deepest and most embarrassing sexual fantasies. He lost all his armors of defense in an instant.

“Uh-” Jason shrunk his body as best he could, his toes stretching and contracting, sweaty hands clutching the sheets under him. He heaved sluggishly, any dispute he wanted to say broke in his throat. 

“Dick-w-why-”

The only answer he got was a much more aggressive lap on his rim. The tip of the man’s tongue coiled around the rim, the warm and moist contact flowing beneath Jason’s skin like fire. His predecessor then kissed and nibbled at Jason's cheeks, his wavy, long hair falling on the boy’s naked skin.

“Robin, pass me the lube.” Dick’s sculpted lips pressed against Jason’s ass. He shook under the tingling sensation. “It’s stored in that drawer close to you.”

Jason whimpered, and even though movement was difficult, Dick’s bewildering voice prompted Jason to turn and look towards the locked nightstand. The key was still there. The key that Dick put into the drawing first thing after he came in.

Immediately, Jason had a good guess what was inside this unwavering drawer. He couldn’t help the sob escaping his throat as he tried to bury his face into the sheets.

It’s then when a hand suddenly fell on his bare ass and a lewd _smack_ rang out. Jason's cry of distress came more from the surprise, rather than the pain.

“Do it,” Dick urged. The same hand gently rested on Jason’s round cheek, cupping it with his palm.

Jason tried to pull his hand free of the shirt that had his wrists bound and trapped, but his struggles took too long with too little payoff. So Jason stretched his arms with his wrists still tied by the piece of clothing. He had to spread his upper torso in order to turn the key and pulling the drawer out was both difficult and awkward. But one look at the contents in the drawer and Jason had to suppress another choked gasp.

Toys. All kinds of them. Rubber dildos, vibrators, anal beads, gags, and even a few items that Jason couldn't name. These tools intended to be used to violate him were apparently in here all along, even before he woke up in his cell. And Dick wanted him to see them. Wanted him to acknowledge them with his own eyes.

A sense of anger struck him, and Jason had to bear down the tears in his frustrated embarrassment.

His hesitation was rewarded by another smack on his ass. The crisp sound echoed in the small room alongside his yelp of pain, his cheek bouncing beneath Dick's hand.

“Come on.” Dick placed his hands over Jason's reddened butt cheeks and gently squeezed. “It's the blue tube, baby, hand it here.”

A thumb rolled along Jason’s hole before entering him without warning. Jason bit his lip to force down a pained moan. The dry thumb ripped at his tight entrance, and Jason knew very well that Dick wouldn't stop until he got what he wanted.

If the last time was anything to go by.

“-No, Dick, please! I'll give it to you, please just-ah-stop!”

Jason begged, the words gurgling out of his mouth. He rummaged through the toys in the drawer, took the object out as soon as he saw a hint of blue, and hurriedly handed the tube back to Dick.

“Here-just hang on!”

The shame was too strong, but he had no choice. Jason was forced to assist Dick in assaulting himself.

“Thank you, Little Wing.”

A familiar popping sound came as Dick opened the lid, and Jason couldn't help himself from weeping and pulling his arms close to his body. He wished he could also curl up his legs, if only Dick wasn’t still clamping his hips. As he the gel-coated thumb pressed against his entrance, Jason could only force out a weak sob.

Dick's thumb slowly pushed into his hole. The aching sensation caused Jason to tremble all over, and beneath his closed lips came a lengthy whimper that started his chest. It sounded erotic with the wet and lewd sounds Dick’s thumb made as he pushed it into Jason.

After digging him out a little, Dick retrieved his thumb. Then he jabbed his fore and middle fingers into him instead, probing and opening Jason's body up to get him ready. The combined size of Dick’s fingers were thicker than his thumb, which, adding to how tight Jason was, had caused the entire act extremely hard to bear. The fingers started slowly but were gradually fucking him open much faster with lubrication. Jason gritted his teeth at the aching sensation, and his sensitive rim also had to bear the impact of Dick's knuckles as they plunged into him. Jason's knees were shaky and were barely holding up the weight of his body.

As Dick's fingertips contacted a sensitive spot somewhere on the front wall of his passage, a sense of pleasure permeated Jason from head to toe. He took in a sharp lungful of air, his weak body curling into itself on the wrinkled sheets.

“Does it feel good when I press here?” Dick tentatively jabbed at the same spot again, prompting a sharp gasping sound out of the boy’s lips.

“I-I don't-” Jason shook his head.

“It’s okay to tell me, Robin. I’d rather you enjoy this.”

-did it? He didn't know… The only thing that Jason knew was that the electrifying sensation made his muscles feel weak. Every fiber of Jason’s body felt tingly, throbbing with excitement. God knew exactly what the feel was. All Jason knew was that the idea of exploring the sensation was scary as hell.

“Silly me—how on earth could I forget,” with a wet gurgle, Dick's fingers popped out of his hole, leaving Jason feeling empty. “You’re not experienced enough to understand what _good_ feels like.”

“I-no, I'm not- Dick-”

“No big deal,” after ghosting over the skin on his ass, the sensation of Dick's fingertips vanished. Jason heard the fly unzipping and clasps undone, and the knowledge of what was about to happen filled him with dread.

“There’ll be plenty of time in the future for us to explore your preferences.”

“Dick… please…”

There was a grunt as Dick squeezed more gel out of the tube. Jason sobbed and had to bear listening to the telltale sounds of wet and lewd gurgles as Dick applied the lube onto something—the only sounds breaking the silence other than Jason’s own rapid breathing brought on by his trepidation. The seconds he had to spend on waiting as the man prepared himself were torturous.

When Jason felt the gel-coated head of the man’s cock pressed against him, he took in a mouthful of air in his horror, before suddenly pleading, “Dick, please, please- I- I can't take-”

But Dick was already spreading his hole open with the tip of his cock and was pushing into him using a slow but unwavering pace. Jason twitched, and the hands that struggled were soon grabbed and twisted back to be held in place. The hand that supported Jason’s hip now stroked his sides in a comforting gesture. Dick was cooing soothingly at him.

“Relax, Robin. It will make it easier if you try to relax.”

Dick's length was pushing in slowly. Jason frantically shook his head, still finding it hard to bear. Even if it’s past his first time, it was nothing short of being painful.

“Dick, what the hell are you- why are you doing this to me…” Jason cried, unable to comprehend the fate that had befallen him. “Dick, don't do this… please…”

Dick slowed down as he massaged the small of the boy’s back. After a few moments, he reached below Jason’s torso and toyed with both of his soft nipples, rolling at them with his fingertips as the buds hardened under his touch. As he did this, Dick pushed his cock forward again, and Jason had to choke on the sounds of his own gasps.

“Uh-” Jason had to relax his body. The toying of his nipples brought on an electrifying thrill through him, and his hole twitched. Jason’s body was still tense with nervousness, yet his rim relaxed for a second, swallowing Dick's cock.

“See?” Dick said as he rested his hand gently on the back of Jason’s shoulder blade, “it's not that difficult.”

Jason moaned. The older boy’s enlarged organ filled Jason’s passage to the brim. There’s no escape or retreat for him, so he had no choice but to force himself to take it.

It was then when Jason felt the man’s long and slender fingers passed through his hair before they gently pulled, and the small amount of pain brought on a wave of confusing pleasure throughout his body. Dick’s cock slowly withdrew from him.

The enlarged cock almost pulled out all the way before it smashed in again, prompting Jason to cry out. The pain made his eyes flash black for a second, but something deep within him was hungering for more friction and contact. It confused Jason. It was almost like his own body was unknown to him.

“Dick- please, try to think about Kori and the Titans, think about Bruce…” he begged, “fuck! Just think of what you were like before! Don't be like this... you are better than this…”

Dick paused for a moment, the fingers entangling his hair temporarily freezing. Jason didn’t know if Dick had heard him. He prayed that these words could awaken some sort of conscience inside his predecessor.

But the man’s next thrust was even more vigorous and went deeper than last time, making the boy cry louder than ever before. The friction between Dick’s cock and Jason’s rim made lewd, wet sounds. Dick gripped his waist with one hand, punching Jason's spine into a tight curve with each subsequent collision.

“You're such a treasure, Robin,” Dick's voice sounded fragmented with his intermittent thrusts. “With so much trust in you,” a push that hit a sensitive spot, “and so, _so_ fast to forgive,” and another. Every time, Dick fucked into the innermost depth of Jason’s passage.

Jason lifted his head and grunted. Sweat was soaking his forehead, and he was unable to respond to Dick at all. So Dick used a different hand to entangle Jason’s hair and pulled his head towards himself.

“Maybe they’ve appeared to accept you as Robin.” The magnetic sound of Dick’s voice huffed onto Jason’s neck and earlobe with heated breaths, making him shudder, “but you and I both know that there are some things that someone like you can never be.”

These words stabbed at Jason, even more so than the times Dick had assaulted him. Jason couldn't stop his sobbing, and could only squeeze the sweat-soaked sheet tighter in his hands. Taking him like this had to be the worst kind of violation, a relentless, uncaring kind of taking by the first Robin from the second.

“But you are mine now,” Dick continued to whisper in his ear, “and no longer theirs.”

Jason had to cover his mouth with his hand to suppress his shameful cry.

He hoped Dick was satisfied. He hoped that the man's brutal taking from him could at least make the pitiless man feel better. Otherwise, what else could the ravagement he’d suffered bring? Dick didn't care about him at all, Jason was just some tool for Dick to achieve his equilibrium. An _accidental casualty._

At least give him one reason. Give him a reason to loathe his predecessor without relent.

It was at that moment when a creak sounded from the cracked door behind them. Dick looked back with a sudden movement of his head. Heavy footsteps. Then a second of silence.

“I can see that you are enjoying my gift pretty well.”

The darkly sounding voice echoed with a built-in voice changer, piercing to the ears through the silence. The voice belonged to Deathstroke.

Jason's heart was at his throat, and it was then when he suddenly realized that Dick had also fallen silent.

“Why are you here?” Dick sounded like he could fall into a rage, tone filled with the unhappiness of the intrusion.

“You vanished during your training session. After Rose came in with the news that the Titans had found Robin's tracker. I passed by here looking for you, and the door was open.”

Dick responded with an exasperated huff. One hand sliding across Jason's spine, gently massaging the muscles at his back, strained by tension.

“You're in distress, Grayson,” Slade said, “I'm very glad. That you've now found an outlet for your resentment.”

“I have no resentment,” Dick bit out.

“... yet, I have to admit,” ignoring him, Slade continued, “when I’d first brought Robin to you, I did not expect you had... this... in mind.”

Dick growled. His cock shifted again and Jason made a sharp cry. But another of Dick’s harsh thrusts quickly cut him off.

“You did something good, old man. But that doesn’t mean I appreciate your interruption,” Dick said, panting heavily, “and why the helmet?”

“Mission. Immediately after you’re done,” Slade said without rhetoric, “leave all your grievances in this room and try to work with the team like a normal team member this time."

“Fine. You can go now.”

“Why so fast?” Slade said.

The sudden panic made Jason’s breath stop. Or maybe it's the way Dick fucked into his body. He heard heavy footsteps, and the same man who planned his entire abduction was now circling the bed unhurriedly and stood by Jason's side.

Jason wanted to hide. But he couldn't do it, so he only turned his face from the mercenary's gaze and forced himself not to cry.

Slade silently stared at him, clicking his tongue.

“I can see why you want this,” the mercenary said after a long pause, “the boy looks good when you fuck him-”

Dick gave a hard push, and Jason cried out in pain. But his body quickly collapsed again, with only weak gasps and sobs coming from him. It was painful, but even more unbearable was the shame he was feeling. He couldn't even get himself to resent Deathstroke for what he'd done to him, instead only wishing that the man could leave the room.

But he could feel the mercenary's scorching gaze descending upon his naked body as it moved across his skin, before finally falling upon the humiliation between his legs.

“—And you obviously have the boy’s admiration as well. Nicely done, _apprentice.”_

For a while Jason couldn't stop his sobbing, being way too aware of his body’s physical condition. When the fuck did he have a hard-on?

“Stay away from him, Slade,” he heard Dick hissing these words out of his clenched teeth. “I'm serious. He's mine.”

Slade softly snorted, obviously not paying much attention. But Jason could still hear his footsteps turning and walking further to the distance.

“To keep the new Robin by your side—making sure he’s under your care, instead of letting him run wild in the Titans—is this your wish, Grayson?” Slade mocked. “I want to say it’s all in rather poor taste, but if this is what must happen to calm you down, I believe it’s still something that I can allow.”

“Oh, you don't know the half of it, old man,” Dick answered with a sarcastic sneer, thrusting deep into Jason’s body and making him cry out.

“Good, Robin,” Dick’s words were directed towards Jason in a low whisper, grabbing his hair and gently pulling on it, making him scream out a fragmented cry. “Just a little louder. Scream louder for me.”

Even though Dick was fucking him into oblivion, Jason was more than capable of understanding how this stunt was just Dick’s way of displaying power in front of his mentor. Jason wanted to curse out, but he was afraid that if he did, the only sounds that he could make were wanton moans. So Jason had to resort to a protest that fell a little short. Jason shut up and stayed quiet.

Dick rewarded his disobedience by fucking into him with much more force.

This time Dick had his goal set on hitting the one spot inside Jason’s passage that weakened him. Every time Dick did, it stimulated Jason's nerves and made his own cock grow harder and larger, and a transparent pre-cum was flowing from the top. His throbbing erection was almost too painful to bear, and Jason frantically wanted release. It was all within a hormonal teenager’s nature for him to reach full hardness, and it’s all in his biology when he stroked his desire and gradually picked up pace. These had all started before Jason even realized that he’d been doing it.

And when Jason finally realized this, shame and panic consumed him. Jason’s first reaction was to let go of his cock, but the soft touch of a larger, warmer hand at the back of his own stopped him. Dick held Jason's erection through his hand, the most vulnerable part of him fully in the man's grasp.

“No need to stop, Robin,” Dick said, “keep going.”

Jason gaped in his horror. But he couldn't stop it from happening, and his own hesitating hand was grabbed by Dick’s more determined one, stroking along his length, smearing the fluid of his pre-cum along his cock.

It's all too radical. Dick fucking him from behind, and Dick satisfying him through his own hand. The whole thing took Jason over his limit. He needed nothing more to reach his climax.

But as soon as Jason was about to find release, Dick grabbed his shoulder before turning his body around. The older boy pressed him onto the headboard of the bed, his back leaning against the cold metal railings. From this angle Jason could clearly see Slade standing behind Dick, staring cooly at him from behind his two-toned mask.

One of Dick’s hands muffled Jason’s bewildered yelp, and when he came Jason could only utter a moan behind Dick’s palm, his tears running down the back of the digits. Milky semen sprayed onto Dick's hand and Jason’s own chest.

Dick then picked up pace, only taking a few more seconds before he came inside Jason. Dick shielded Jason within his arms at his moment of release. The man’s shoulders blocked Jason’s sight and completely cut off the image of Deathstroke standing behind him.

“You can keep him,” Jason could only make out Slade saying these words with the buzzing in his ears, a part of the aftermath of the orgasm, “obviously you’re enjoying him. I hope today's mission will prove to me he is useful.”

—Power. All of this was nothing more than a demonstration of the competing of dominance between master and apprentice, and Jason was nothing but a _prop_ to them. These fucking bastards. Jason thought, feeling helpless.

+++

Slade was gone. After he told Dick to meet up with Defiance in the front lobby after clean-up.

The mercenary seemed to lose interest immediately after Dick finished. Yet Jason could tell that Dick's mentor was quite satisfied with what he saw.

Jason was sitting on the bed, completely naked with a blank stare. After putting himself together, Dick walked around the bed and approached the boy, before taking one of his restrained wrists, tossing and turning it in his hands, eyes searching on the surface of his manacle.

Dick then took a bunch of clinking keys out of his pocket. Jason cracked his eyes open and stared at the keys he'd wanted to get his hands on - the winning card to his escape - and yet he was just sitting there sluggishly and unable to move an inch. Dick picked a silvery key out of the bunch and inserted it into the keyhole and with a click, the handcuff opened. Only then did Jason realize that the man was looking for the key insertion to unlock his restraint.

“Get up and go wash yourself off,” Dick said to him after unlocking both of his cuffs.

Jason tested his wrists and stared in amazement at the hands that only seconds ago still had chained restraining them. He couldn't believe that his hands were free, even just for a moment.

“But-” He swallowed his spit and in his surprise almost couldn't think of anything to say, “you are letting me go in alone? -no, I mean, aren’t you going to monitor me in case I try to escape?”

“You’re not going anywhere with me in here-” Dick unhurriedly wrapped the chains neatly to make space- “but I have no objections if you want me to go into the shower with you. It would save time anyway.

The imagery that Dick's words brought to Jason's mind made his face heat up with embarrassment. He needed no more encouragement. Jason stood up with a rustling sound and started to fast making his way towards the bathroom. Any slight movements were making the cum still left inside of him to flow out of his backside, so Jason had to straighten his body and walk stiffly and awkwardly.

“Don't,” Dick said to Jason as he was about to close the door behind him, “leave it open.”

Jason made an angry growl before removing the hand he already had on the doorknob. Then Dick said to him, "You’ll find shower gel and shampoo in there. Be careful not to get your stitches wet."

Jason didn't answer him. He kept the door open and rushed into the shower as if running for his life, then he wrenched back the shower curtain, which was, in its entirety, completely see-through, possibly designed that way to allow his captors to observe him. It’s almost as if they designed every single facility in his cell to make it easier for them to watch over him. There was no privacy, not even in the bathroom.

Jason opened up the shower head to let the warm water spray down. Instead of using it to rinse himself clean, it was more done in the hope that the loud noise of the running water could distract Dick enough that the man wouldn’t suspect anything.

This way, and only this way, would Dick not be able to hear Jason finally breaking down.

In the warm mist of the shower, Jason slid down against the tile and onto the floor. He hugged his knees close to his body, not even paying attention to the cum spilling out of his backside like from a broken pipe. Like liquid leaking from the bottom of some cracked bottle.

He raised his freed wrists, staring at them indifferently. The ghostly feeling of shackles restraining them still felt almost too real. _Just get out of here and escape. Do it when they weren't paying attention_ \- Jason could wait until the right moment came, no matter how long it would take—be it a few days, or a few years—then pry open the shackles when he’d get the chance, break open the lock on his door, leave here, and never look back-

-but then.

Jason's shoulders twitched. Salty tears fell off of his cheeks, but the water immediately diluted them. Jason hated the bathroom. The scene was way too familiar. Reminded him too much of the image of a woman who’d once been an important part of his life, lying unconscious on the tiles with an empty syringe in her grip, only to never wake up again. Jason was glad he turned on the showerhead before his breakdown. This way Dick wouldn't be able to hear him cry.

Dick was still outside the door. Jason could hear footsteps as the man walked around in the cell, like a beast that watched over locked prison doors in ancient times. There was nowhere for him to run. But his temporarily freed hands were enough to give the boy some hope.

Maybe ... just maybe ...

Or maybe it’s just another false hope. Like a mirage seen by desert travelers.

He sat motionless at the corner, letting warm water wet his body and soak the gauze-covered wound that hadn't had enough time to heal. His tears mixed in with the spraying water. Jason ended up seeing Deathstroke’s mask in his confused mind’s eye. Black and orange, just like Renegade’s uniform.

A long time had passed before Jason heard someone pulling the curtain open.

“You’re taking too long,” he heard Dick say. But the man’s movements stopped shortly. Dick looked at the boy sitting there motionless in silence. Then Jason heard the curtain rattling back in place behind the older boy.

Sounds made by water washing over a body, then a tube of shower gel opening with a _click._ Dick showered. Jason didn't look up, didn't open his mouth to speak, just stared silently at the tiles in front of him, staring at the water on the ground in a bewildering manner as it washed down the drain.

Dick fell silent after a long time had passed. But then, Jason felt some cool liquid squeezing onto his head. After that came a pair of warm hands, gently inserted itself into his hair and massaged his scalp using long and slender fingers, causing a tremor to shoot through Jason’s body.

Dick rubbed his scalp without saying a word, until a thick foam formed on Jason’s head that seeped through all of his slightly greasy hair. Then Jason felt the warm water spray onto his head as Dick helped him wash the shampoo away.

Then, still holding the showerhead, the man helped him wash the rest of his body, even going so far to support the boy’s upper body with his arms in order to clean his back. Jason frowned at the soreness on his lower back. Dick then turned off the shower and wrapped his body in a bath towel.

When Dick was helping the boy to his feet, Jason tried to push him away. But the man kept him trapped in his arm, his embrace tight and unwavering. Jason had no choice but to follow obediently and return to his cell with his predecessor by his side.

Dick had him standing by the bed, then dried him off with the towel, not skipping his hair. Jason impatiently waited for him to finish before promptly grabbing the clothes that were ripped off of him and putting it on, even though the physical discomforts of his body made it difficult for him to do this.

“Try to put up with these for a few more days.” Dick watched as the boy silently turned around and dressed, eyes burning into his back as he mused these words. “I'll buy you something more fitting when I return from my mission.”

Jason decided not to give him a satisfactory answer. He didn't reply.

Dick stared at him again for a few more seconds, before suddenly, “Roll up your left pant leg, I want to see how your stitches are doing.”

Jason ignored him again.

Dick then placed his hand on Jason’s shoulder, forcing the boy to turn around before pushing him down to sit on the bed. Dick squatted in front of him and rolled up his pant leg, exposing the soaked gauze stuck on his left leg.

Dick sighed with frustration.

“I thought I told you not to wet the stitches?”

“What's it got to do with you?” Jason responded furiously, his voice hoarse.

Dick lifted his head and frowned up at him, then picked up an unopened bottle of water from the table, unscrewed the cap before handing it to him. It took Jason a few moments to decide to take it finally, and he had a bunch of gurgling mouthfuls down his throat in only a few seconds. Then he wiped the liquid on his chin with his arm.

As it happened Dick was already peeling off the gauze. The skin around Jason’s wound was soaked and wrinkled. Dick gently wiped the water with a soft tissue, then pressed it firmly over the stitches for a few seconds, attempting to absorb as much excess water there as possible.

After having done this, Dick stood up.

“I have to leave for the mission,” he said, “Joey will deliver your dinner tonight. I will ask him to take another look at your wound when he’s here.”

The hairdryer, still wrapped in its wire, was thrown onto his bed. Then Dick stood beside him, holding an unlocked chain and cuff in his hand before slightly curving his palm upward to signal Jason to hand him over his wrist, all the while already fumbling for his keys in his pocket.

As expected, Jason didn't move, so Dick had to grab his arm and force the shackle onto his wrist.

“You know you can't skip this part, kid,” Dick said to him as he finished fastening the second cuff.

Jason hugged his re-cuffed wrist close to his body, trying to exercise his joints with the restraints on, before finally frowning at the inconvenience that the shackles were causing him. “Asshole,” he said in a low voice.

“Yeah, yeah,” Dick echoed impatiently. “You can use the outlet by the sink for the hairdryer, or you can use the one behind the table.” He then paused and silently stared at Jason with a thoughtful look on his face.

“I'll be back soon, Little Wing,” he whispered. These were the last words the man uttered before he left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are all very appreciated!


	5. Joey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The man looked exactly like a porcelain doll that one might find in a Victorian window shop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Check out[THIS](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23891023/chapters/57435625) magnificent fic by Sliver_Tail also set in this AU! It's smut set in an alternate post-chap 4 and it's awesome and hot and super lovely. Please go give them all your love **💖 💖 💖 💖
> 
> Soooo... this chapter is mostly Joey. I love him with Jason. He's such a sweet, mute boy. I have this Dick/Joey/Jason OT3 thing going on. Too bad I don't know how far I can take with the ship in this particular fic, since Renegade Dick is just _that_ possessive. Might just be a "if you squint" thing. But we'll see. I added the tag regardless though just in case.
> 
> Sorry if the ASL described in this chapter is inaccurate. I did my research while writing this, but I've never had any first or even second experience with anyone who actually uses them. Hopefully I didn't butcher it too badly.

The hairdryer was at the foot of the bed, wrapped in its wire. Blow-drying his hair with it was the only thing Jason did since Dick left. He hadn’t moved an inch since.

The sun's rays were getting redder and dimmer by the minute. The boy sat on the bed alone, dully watched the sunlight pass from his bare toes as he stayed motionless like a statue. The gears embedded in the ceiling were the only source of noise, and the deafening silence that they otherwise left him was more terrifying than anything. It forced Jason to drown in the darkness of his thoughts. 

No matter where Jason looked, there’s only the lingering reminder of the purpose of his stay here—for whom was he locked up for—whom he  _ belonged _ to.

And when he’s not thinking about these things his mind would wander away to a place of gloom and chaos, with no traces of logical thoughts whatsoever. There was only a sense of suffocation as if the depth of the ocean drowned him. It seemed that his heart was a cage made up of endless hopeless dilemmas from which he could not escape.

At least that was before a couple of knocking sounded from the door, making Jason jump.  _ Rap, rap, _ calm, and not at all forceful. 

Aroused from his thoughts, Jason looked towards the entrance, surprised.

By now the sky had already darkened, leaving only a glimmer of undispersed light inside the cell, illuminating the outlines of the few furniture in here. The light from the corridor poured through the gap underneath the door, its intensity blinding to the eyes. Jason narrowed his eyes and faintly made out the shadow of a pair of feet standing outside.

Then the knock rang out again. This time three raps sounded.

Jason was confused. No one had ever bothered knocking before entering his cell since his capture. There wasn’t a single reason for his captors to do this.

And just as he was distracted by these thoughts, the tapping sound rang out again.

_ Rap. Rap. _

Jason realized that he had to do something. So he hesitantly spoke up, couldn't help wincing from the sound of his own scratchy voice.

“Uh- come in?”

The knocking stopped. The person outside stayed quiet for a few more moments, perhaps searching for a key. Then, a clink as the instrument was inserted, twisting in the keyhole, a click, then the door opened.

Standing outside was a tall figure with short, brilliant hair and a tray in his hands. Jason squinted, unable to make out the man’s features with the backdrop of the brightly lit hallway.

Then the—young man?—pulled the key out of the keyhole and awkwardly closed the door with his foot. Jason let out the breath he had been holding, listening as the door locked itself up again.

When the man approached him with his tray in hand, Jason could already smell the aroma of grilled cheese, as well as the familiar scents of ground beef, tomato sauce, and basil. It smelled better than anything he’d had since they brought him here, and Jason’s mouth began to water.

The older boy walked to the nightstand and placed the tray on the table. Then, he turned on the lamp, illuminating both the cell and himself.

Jason’s immediate thought after seeing the guy’s face was that he looked exactly like the porcelain dolls that one might find in a Victorian window shop.

The young man had an affectionate appearance: an oval-shaped face, big and round eyes, and small, bud-like lips.

But what attracted Jason the most was his blond hair. The color was like golden silk. The boy’s fine, small curls were cut right above the chin, like an elf from a fairy tale. Jason was awestruck.

But then Jason caught those eyes.

Emerald in color, more cloudless and translucent than any gems natural or artificial, seeming like still water as they stared ahead. Looking as if they were able to see through to one’s soul—as if they were able to  _ seize _ the said soul.

And that was when a memory from not too long ago suddenly swam up to the front of Jason’s mind.

_ His body stopped in its tracks, tightly encased in Terra’s stone, as he helplessly fell into Defiance’s hands ... one of the factors that had pushed him towards this misfortune in the first place.  _ Jason panicked.

In his distress, the boy slammed his body back, and the violent movement almost caused him to fall off of the bed.

Then the figure in front of him rushed over. Before Jason knew it, a large, warm hand was holding and supporting his back, stabilizing his body and, in time, successfully caught him before he fell.

“Don't touch me!” Jason shouted.

Surprisingly, the hand withdrew almost immediately.

Jason caught himself in time and sat up again. When he looked up, the blond boy had retreated to at least a foot away. He’s holding his hands up in a gesture of peace, his green eyes widening.

“Jericho,” Jason gasped. “It's you. It’s  _ you _ who took over my body and let them capture me.”

Jericho stood still. He didn't make any sound, but he kept his hands raised, lips pursed as if with some unseen inner turmoil, a pitiful look in his eyes.

“You helped them kidnap me,” Jason continued, tone imperceptibly tinged with a strong accusatory intention, “why don't you speak? Why do you keep staring at me like that?”

Jason had to admit that those motionless eyes were giving him the creeps. Especially by now, he understood how he wouldn’t be here at all if it weren’t for Jericho's intervention.

The tall boy said nothing, but his eyes widened with a sorrowful emotion to them, almost pleading. Baffled, Jason raised an eyebrow. Under the younger boy’s curious gaze, Jericho pointed his thumb upwards at himself, then, before he knew it, his fingers rapidly danced in a variety of elegant gestures, seemingly communicating something to him.

Jason blinked, his eyes fell from the young man's face to the movements of his hands, and he watched tentatively at the... sign language that the man was using.

_ I am a friend. _

Jason was taken off guard.

“Um-”

Jason's gaze navigated from Jericho’s fingers to his face, before jumping back to his fingers again. Remembering the ASL lessons that he’d gotten from Bruce, Jason was already starting to raise his hands on instinct as he tried awkwardly to respond with signs of his own. But Jericho stopped him.

_ You can keep talking.  _ The man’s signs said.  _ I’m not deaf, just mute. _

Perhaps noticing his eyes widening in disbelief, Jericho quickly pointed towards his own throat.

Suddenly, Jason was thankful he paid attention to Bruce’s homework when he had the chance. Reading the most commonly used signs was not that hard for him.

Perhaps taking his changing expression as understanding, Jericho smiled at Jason, his emerald eyes looking almost like they could speak.

Then, the man pointed his hand at the chair beside the nightstand and made a gesture that said “can I sit down?” that even the most clueless person would have no trouble understanding.

Jason swallowed in disbelief. After a brief hesitation, he decided that he’d see where this would go, so he carefully nodded.

Jericho beamed at him after the permission. He smiled like a child, bottom eyelids crinkling in his contentment, unlike anyone Jason had seen since his capture. He moved the chair over, placing it by the bed carefully and quietly before sitting down. When he just so happened to be sitting directly under the lamp, Jason was able to make out a diagonal scar embedded in his throat, looking ghastly. It’d obviously been healed over for many years, but Jason was still able to tell that there used to be a heavy wound there, cut so deeply it must have slashed his throat.

Shocked, Jason didn't even realize he’d been staring at Jericho's neck. But the older boy didn’t notice his gaze, instead, he leaned forward, putting his elbows on his knees, and with his eyes fixed on him, Jericho gestured for Jason to pull up his pant leg.

Jason was confused for a moment until he remembered what Dick said before leaving.

He briefly contemplated the pros and cons of doing what he's told. But Jericho was different from Dick, exuding a gentle and friendly air from him, and with the pair of eyes almost acting like mirrors that reflected his own emotions, it was almost impossible to refuse him. So the boy swallowed a little, nervously rolling up the left leg of his baggy pants to reveal his stitches.

Jericho shifted his body a little so he was more directly under the light and checked the wound. His fingers pressed lightly around the skin surrounding the site, all the while making sure not causing Jason any unnecessary pain. The man’s actions were not even a little bit harsh, instead, they were extremely cautious.

Jericho checked for a bit before raising his head to look at Jason, staring at him with sincerity in his eyes and signed.

_It looks fine._ He explained. _You eat first, I'll go get the medical kit and help you with a new piece of gauze after._

He paused for a moment after finishing, then went to pick up the plate of lasagne from the metal tray, handing it over excitedly. Jason cautiously looked down at it before staring up at Jericho's face. He couldn't see a hint of malice in the other's delightful expression, and the man's unusual enthusiasm almost gave Jason an uneasy feeling. He didn’t waste time quietly taking the plate from him, even if it’s for the simple reason of not wanting to be in the middle of the weird situation any longer.

The man withdrew his hands, smiled, and began to one by one spell out exactly four letters with his fingers.

_J-O-E-Y. my name._

Then he used his baby finger to draw out a curve on the right side of his head, the letter J, as an abbreviation for his name. Jason watched in silence, didn’t bother to speak up, or even try to conceal his obvious hostility. Instead, he looked down at the pasta on his plate, smelling heavenly. He couldn't help the touch of the impressed tone creeping into his voice as he spoke.

“Did you make this?”

Joey nodded fast like a butterfly flapping its wings, looking not unlike a little kid eagerly awaiting praise.

The lasagne on the plate was cooked with rich meat sauce and cheese, and Jason couldn't help himself from drooling at it. In the face of his hunger, the terrible things that happened to him not long ago were temporarily pushed into the back of his mind to be unearthed later. He picked up the fork, almost had to force himself to not act too drastically in his want to consume it, and used the fork to place the pasta into his mouth, piece by piece like a normal person, instead of gobbling everything down like a starving idiot.

The lasagna tasted just as delicious as he thought. The sauce was distinctively flavored with basil and oregano, and it was cooked with a bunch of vegetables usually one wouldn't expect to see in pasta sauce. Such as eggplants. Jason almost moaned out in his joy, and after a few bites went down, he suddenly realized that Joey had been staring at him with those big, intelligent eyes.

Realizing the younger's gaze, a hint of a smile appeared in Joey's eyes. This suddenly made Jason feel a little self-conscious.

“It ... tastes good,” the boy stuttered, almost as an excuse, trying to say this with a hostile tone in an effort to use it as a protective mechanism for his pride. But instead it came out sounding more like an inadvertent praise for the other’s cooking than anything. He immediately regretted speaking up as a blush reached his cheeks. But in his defense, there’s just something about Joey that made people want to relax around him, and Jason too, had blurted out these words without much thinking.

_Then eat more. There’s plenty left._ Joey signed with his hands.

Jason did exactly that.

He cleared his plate, then almost felt like licking it clean too like a cat that hadn’t had any wet food for days. Jason raised his head and saw at one glance that Joey, who waited patiently just now with his elbows resting on his knees, was watching him earnestly with his chin in hands. Seeing that he’d finished, the man quickly sat up so that his hands were free to sign.

_Do you want more?_

Jason briefly contemplated whether or not to seize this opportunity to ask for more food from his captor. The street rat still living in him screamed for it. But Jason repressed the urge. He decided that he was indeed satiated.

“No,” he said, handing over the plate, “I'm full.”

Joey didn't take it at first, instead continued to stare at him with sincerity in his eyes.

_There’s no need to be afraid of asking for more._ Joey signed. _There’s still plenty left._

“I'm not saying I’m full because …” Fuck, Jason couldn’t even speak properly now. The feeling of being the center of attention was unfamiliar and weird, making Jason feel almost uncomfortable. He quickly sat up straight and said, “I'm done eating.

Joey took it without any more words.

_Would you like to have anything else?_ The young man then signed to him. _Entertainment? Music? Does Dick -_ Joey spelled out Dick's name with his fingers, before gesturing to assign a shorthand to it - _let you listen to music?_

How rapidly these questions were expressed made it difficult for Jason to give out any answers. For a while he was only able to remain silent.

Noticing the boy's uneasiness, Joey quickly started up his signing again, trying to ease the atmosphere.

_You don't have to answer if you don’t want to._

Joey was being too understanding that Jason almost thought he was the unreasonable one. He felt horrible.

“Sorry,” he said shyly, “I don't ... I'm not used to other people talking to me like this. Dick doesn't do that, you know.”

Joey’s lips cracked open and he made a sound from his throat that seemed to mean laughter. His warm expression easily calmed Jason down.

_What do you think of him?_ Joey signed before using the shorthand of Dick's name.

Then immediately, possibly due to Jason’s suspicions creeping up onto his face, the man started again.

_Rest assured. It'll just be a secret between the two of us. I won't tell._

Then, he made a lip-zipping motion with his hand at Jason and smiled.

But Jason didn't laugh at his antics. Joey's question was too much of a reminder of what happened to him earlier, so much so that he stopped paying attention to the other almost entirely in favor of drowning in his own thoughts. Jason shrunk down into himself, arms wrapping around his knees as he tightly hugged himself.

His eyes dropped, staring blankly at the crumpled sheet at his feet. Everything in this place all too easily reminded him of what Dick had done to him, as well as the feeling of Deathstroke’s burning gaze scorching into his skin. Jason's body began to tremble faintly.

A moment passed before the boy felt a warm hand settling on his forearm, soft and not being forceful in the slightest. It made him feel at ease.

“He …” Jason swallowed and tried to continue, but his lips suddenly felt like they were injected with numbing agents. They quivered with his thoughts as Jason was unable to speak a word.

Fortunately, Joey didn’t make a move to compel him to continue. Instead, Jason felt the blond lightly patting his arm in order to get his attention. When Jason looked up, he was immediately met with a pair of sincere green eyes intensely staring at him.

_Dick’s not the best person in the world._ Joey signed. _He’s both stubborn and bossy. But he’s not all that bad either. He has many respectable features, too._

Jason looked at him in silence, a passive look in his eyes, and the tone of his words sounded exhausted.

“Does he?” He said sarcastically, “I’m sorry that I can’t see them then.”

He wasn’t expecting Joey to actually answer his question. He _especially_ wasn’t expecting the man to reply sincerely with no signs of jokes whatsoever.

_He takes care of his teammates like his loved ones. Out on the field, I know Dick is always someone to count on._

These were not really surprising, actually. Regardless of what Dick called himself now, Jason had no doubt about the former Robin’s leadership skills. He led the Teen Titans, after all.

Joey continued to sign, and Jason’s eyes fell onto the graceful gestures of his hands.

_It’s sometimes demanded for Dick to be the team leader, and he manages it perfectly. He can make even the most difficult of decisions._

Suddenly, Jason was reminded again of who the man in front of him actually was. Joey was a teammate of Dick’s and a member of Defiance, despite his appearance. He was among Deathstroke’s accomplices, one of the people who helped capture him, and was also - at this moment - his captor. Joey's warm and amiable features made this all too easily forgotten.

The air in the room suddenly became even colder than before. Jason swallowed and stared at Joey with increased alertness in his eyes.

However, as if he was able to detect the change of atmosphere, Joey immediately chose to change the subject.

_I'm going to get the gauze now. I'll be back soon._

Then Joey stood up and walked away with the dirty dish. The front door automatically locked itself as he left the room, and when it’s unlocked again with a turning of the key, the tray in Joey’s hands was gone and was replaced with a medical kit.

The man walked over to the bed, placed the box on top of the nightstand, then opened it and sat down. He patted the space on the bed right next to Jason's leg. The boy immediately understood, so he rolled up his pants without saying a word, exposing the wound on his thigh.

Joey handled the wound in a very practiced way, making Jason suspect that he often had to dress wounds for others on his team. The young man began by spraying disinfectant on his stitches before cutting off a few pieces of medical tape, sticking it to the back of his hand, and then measured and cut out a piece of gauze, folded it a few times, finally carefully lining it up with the stitched wound. From there, it didn’t even take more than a dozen seconds as he finished it by taking the tapes off and fixed it around the gauze. 

Joey patted Jason's knee again after this. As the boy started to slowly pull back his pants, Joey was also placing his tools back into the medical kit in an orderly way.

After fixing the clasps on the box, Joey looked up, a melancholic look in his eyes. The stare had Jason pinned. Not expecting it, he was suddenly nervous.

_I didn't mean to hurt you._ Joey explained.

“... What?” Jason said, confused.

_In helping them bring you here._ Joey gestured around, signifying the cell with his hands. _This wasn’t my intention at all. I just can't refuse the orders._

Jason stared at him in astonishment. Suddenly, it was like he’s submerged in both panic and despair like a surfer caught in some massive wave, losing and drowning in it, suffocating, and he couldn't even form half a reply.

Yet Joey was obviously not waiting for his answer. There was a kind of sadness-filled pity in his eyes when he signed the following words.

_These are not my decisions to make._

Jason couldn't form an answer. Then Joey's eyes suddenly fell to his naked neck, where the large shirt Jason was wearing rested on his shoulder blade. And the following words that the man signed caused Jason to be hyper-aware of his current physical state.

_If he’d hurt you, I'm sorry._

Jason felt suffocated. 

He suddenly all-too-easily noted the hickeys and marks left by Renegade when he violated him. Joey could make them out. The other immediately knew what these meant. Jason instantly covered his neck in an act of self-consciousness, his eyes wide, panic and fear reached them as he stared at the man. But the expression on Joey's face was only one of pity and regret.

_I wished that I could’ve helped you. But this is beyond my control. We are all told not to interfere with his business._

Joey finished before using the shorthand earlier to indicate Dick. Jason remained silent. After all, what else could he say?

The silence lasted for a long time. Jason didn't know whether Joey was waiting for him to say something else or he simply didn't know how to proceed. After nearly a minute had passed, the man before him finally started up again. And Jason couldn't help exhaling a huff of air, just realizing that he’d been holding it.

_If there’s anything I can help with during these next few days, just let me know._ Joey signed, before standing up.

_Good night._ Joey then expressed in signs. _We’ll see each other tomorrow morning, shall we?_

And with that, he took the medical kit and left.

+++

Joey brought him a rich breakfast the next day. Lightly browned toast, sunny-side-up eggs, avocados and raspberries, everything was sprinkled with mixed spices. Even the drink was a cup of gratifying hot cocoa. It was not coffee, but Jason had to say that he liked it more than milk.

God, how much was he unwilling to admit that he liked them! But he just couldn’t conceal the hunger in his eyes as Joey approached with the tray.

Joey sat down by the bed, spread the jam and peanut butter on his toast for him, and handed it over, patiently watched as Jason picked up the fork and ate.

_What do you want to do today?_ Joey conveyed these words in signs as soon as Jason lowered his fork.

Jason was taken by surprise. This was not a question that a captor should ask the captive. But his hesitation didn’t discourage Joey in the slightest. On the contrary, the man continued to sign in his enthusiasm.

_I can't let you hold anything that has an internet connection, but everything else should be fine. Do you like video games? Or watch a movie? How about board games? Do you like music then?_

“I- ” Jason swallowed and stared into Joey's gleaming eyes. He wanted to say something ambiguous to skip the trouble of a response, or simply open his mouth only to maliciously tell the other off instead of showing all this faux-friendliness and pretend that they were anything other than captor and captive. But when he was faced with Joey's expectant, genuine look, Jason’s determination was immediately shaken. This led him to finally say, “-I -like music?”

Joey beamed before raising his index finger and made the gesture that meant “wait here”. Then the man suddenly stood up, picked up the dirty dishes, and happily walked out.

Jason expected Joey to bring a record or radio. He did not expect the man to be holding a guitar when he came back.

As soon as Joey entered he trotted excitedly back to the bed, sat down on the chair there, and placed the guitar down upon his lap. He clamped the guitar pick between the knuckles of his index and middle fingers, with elbows supporting the instrument from both sides, and signed to Jason.

_Do you know how to play?_

Jason felt a wave of heat finding its way onto his face and had to shake his head.

Joey laughed, fingertips moving rapidly.

_That’s fine. I can show you. Any requests for songs?_

Jason sat upright on the bed, staring straight at the guitar in Joey’s arms. He couldn't deny that there was a sudden boost of interest. For a music-loving guy who’s not able to listen to live instruments for days, the temptation was all too great.

“What songs can you play?”

Joey grinned, answering the question eagerly.

_More than you think. Don’t ask me to play_ Mary Had a Little Lamb _again like everyone else does, okay?_

Jason crossed his arms against his chest, the chains jingling a few times. “If that’s the case, then why don't you play me a harder song, huh? Well, I don't know -maybe like the _Phantom of the Opera_ or something?

Jason was sneering when he said this. He pretty much suggested such a difficult score as revenge on Joey for possessing him. He had to admit that his request was a bit on the arrogant and malicious side - but Jason must also confess that some part of him actually did want to hear it.

Joey laid the guitar flat on his lap, carefully twisted a few bolts, tuning the guitar, before repositioning the instrument upright again and positioning his fingers on the fingerboard.

Then, the older male took the almond-shaped pick in his right hand and ran it across the strings, an exquisite note exuding from his fingertips.

As the music poured from the man's fingers, Jason was almost immediately immersed in the song. Joey’s version was not an exact replica of the original score, but rather a freely rewritten one with the musician’s own tweaks to it, adjusted to be more suitable for the guitar and with a much richer harmony.

Watching the youth's fingers flying across the strings was definitely an uncommon sight, and Jason was completely enraptured. Joey's fingers danced with flexibility between the frets as the classic flowed out from them, the movement was as intoxicating as the song itself. The familiar melody attracted him like a magnet, and a deep respect for the man was beginning to form in Jason’s chest.

Jason watched the movement of Joey's hands, his vision frozen, with nothing but the captivating music mattered to him. And before he knew it he was humming out the notes alongside it. As the singer of the number switched from Christine to Phantom, his humming gradually evolved into a vocal singing of the lyrics. Jason didn’t even realize he’d been doing it until the familiar words began to flow out of his own lips.

Joey, still playing, looked up and gave him a small smile, the skin around the corners of his eyes crinkling with the delighted expression. His green eyes flashed with interest.

He remembered every word from the lyrics. Even how the tune of Christine’s final solo recital went. Jason couldn’t reach the pitch and his voice cracked at the last couple of notes. But Joey never stopped playing. Not only that, he didn't seem to have noticed Jason's mistakes at all, instead, he continued to play the guitar generously until the final note was reached, and with one last stroke of his hand he strummed the strings with the pick, holding that pose for a few seconds, until the echo of the last note ceased completely.

Then the blond looked up at Jason. The younger of the two sat awkwardly on the bed, feeling embarrassed for his mistake. His face was burning up like a kettle.

“Uh ... sorry …” he said, looking away while scratching at the back of his head - something that Jason often did when he was embarrassed.

But Joey didn't ridicule him. Instead, Jason heard an applause starting to reverberate off the other. The man had placed the guitar on his lap to free his hands in favor of applauding him. Jason looked up, a little surprised, and his wide eyes met Joey’s heartfelt ones.

Joey clapped for a few more seconds before stopping to sign.

_Your voice isn’t bad at all. Do you sing often?_

Jason felt the blush on his face deepen.

“I- I only sing when there’s no one around.” And in the shower, too. But no one except Alfred needed to know about that.

_I also loved singing._ Joey signed, before pointing at the scar on his throat. _Before this happened._

Jason's slightly gaping lips closed again. Suddenly he didn’t know what to say.

_At least I can still play. And paint. It won’t stop you from doing everything you love, right?_ Joey signed. He paused for a moment before his fingers started dancing again. _Do you want to try it? I'll teach you._

This sentence made Jason nervous again. The idea of keep embarrassing himself in front of the blond gave him an unpleasant lightheaded feel. But on the other hand, he also couldn’t deny the existence of that tiny bit of desire rising inside of him.

“I don't know how fast I can learn it-” Jason said gulpingly.

Joey threw his head back and guffawed a few times. Or rather, he made several dry sounds as air escaped from his broken throat. Then he looked at Jason and signed to him encouragingly.

_It's ok. I won’t go too fast._

He finished and stood up with the guitar before Jason could form any comprehensible answers. Jason hugged his knees and shrank back, trying to make room for Joey. But the man just landed the guitar into his arms and sat behind him on the bed.

Joey shifted his chains to make room for himself, the mattress behind him sank as he sat down, and Jason's body tightened on instinct. But even though the man was this close to him, their bodies never touched. Jason was only able to detect the faint touch of the other's silky shirt occasionally making contact with his back. Joey's hand stretched out in front of him, bypassing his troublesome chains, tucking the guitar pick into his hand, and helped him hold it the right way.

Joey's fingers felt different from Dick's. The knuckles and joints were larger and bulkier, but the fingers themselves were a lot more slender, like the hands of a craftsman. The man’s fingertips were rough with calluses built up from regular contact with guitar strings, yet the skin on his palms were soft. Unlike Dick’s, which were roughened by training with a sword all year round. They gave him an inexplicable sense of security as they wrapped around his own smaller ones. Joey pinched Jason's fingers with his own fingertips to help him position them, while his other hand taught him where to place them on the fingerboard.

Then Joey let go and let Jason hold the instrument on his own, and he felt the volume and weight of the guitar between his hands and on his lap. And Joey's hands stretched in front of him, and made an imitation of a strumming motion.

Jason’s own hand imitated the action by following the arc of the man's wrist, surprised as he heard the beautiful note vibrate out from beneath his fingertips. Then, Joey gave him a thumbs up from behind.

It shouldn’t have made Jason feel as proud as it did.

Then, just like this, Joey started teaching him how to play. Starting every time by repeatedly placing his fingers in the right position before using his own hands stretched out from behind him to show him the motion. Jason couldn't say that it was easy, but he was able to learn fairly quickly. By the time almost an entire day had passed, he was already able to play some simple tunes from memory alone without Joey's help.

Of course, if he wanted to play _Phantom of the Opera_ like Joey did though, he still needed a lot more work.

Jason had to admit that he was starting to get hooked. Even just for a brief period he had completely forgotten his grim situation of being a prisoner. The wonderful music combined with doing something one loved would inevitably have this effect on people. In the end, they had to stop because Jason’s fingers were starting to get sore from the strings, still unaccustomed to playing the instrument and all, and it didn’t take Joey long to notice the pain he was trying to hide.

“I'm fine,” Jason stubbornly replied.

_Don’t force yourself. You can't learn everything all at once._ Joey signed to him. _There’ll still be a long time to come._

The words “but I don't know if there will be a next time” was something that Jason couldn’t bring himself to say.

Joey stood up and stretched himself, before picking up the guitar from Jason's arms, hanging it diagonally on his shoulder, and then messing up Jason's hair.

The brief contact of the man’s fingertips with his scalp caused Jason's body to suddenly straighten on instinct. Perhaps immediately aware of the boy's strange behavior, Joey quickly withdrew his hand.

He smiled apologetically at the boy and then spoke in signs.

_Good night. Maybe I’ll see you again tomorrow._

Jason sent Joey away with anxiousness in his eyes. For the first time since he came here, Jason was actually looking forward to the next day.

+++

Dick didn’t return from the mission. Jason guessed this as soon as he saw that it was still Joey who came in the next morning.

It’s not like this was a terrible thing though. Jason liked Joey. He liked the man's kind personality, liked the foods he cooked, and liked his music. Jason liked that Joey saw him as some real person with flesh and blood, liked that he truly respected him and his decisions, rather than treating him as nothing more than the embodiment of _Robin_ and nothing else.

Joey gave Jason a lot of attention. It’s different from the attention Dick gave him. It put Jason at ease and made him feel that he could relax with the man, instead of having to approach him nervously and guessing at his every step like he had to do with Dick. Perhaps due to Joey’s own ailments, the man was kind and understanding, and he wouldn’t let even the most minor of Jason’s discomforts go unanswered.

And, no matter what kind of songs Jason requested, somehow Joey always knew how to play it for him.

Joey came in with the guitar and sat next to the bed again after breakfast. It started with Jason playing it and revisiting his lessons from the day before, and when he started to get tired, Joey took over and played for Jason instead. All the musicals that Jason loved, from _Les Miserables_ to the _Beauty and the Beast,_ to the _Little Shop of Horrors,_ no matter which songs he’d casually bring up, Joey never had any trouble in performing them. He was familiar with many, _many_ time-honored classics as well. It’s almost as if nothing could stump the blond young man.

For the first time since his captivity, Jason felt truly at ease, even if it’s just for a short time. Even though it’s limited to the little bit of time he spent listening to Joey play the guitar or teaching him how to play. They were able to divert Jason’s focus enough. Keep his mind from being occupied by _Dick_ every second he's trapped here.

It was a convenient escape from his problems.

When the afternoon came, as Jason was holding the instrument in his arms and practicing a simple run-down of the notes and Joey sat there listening, a ringing sound of text messaging suddenly came from him.

Joey’s cell was placed in the front pocket of his luxury shirt. The ring sounded particularly harsh between the intermittent notes of the guitar, making Jason's body go stiff for a moment, and the last note he played gradually dispersed from under his frozen fingertips.

Joey looked down at his pocket and took the phone out. He took a few seconds to read the text, before looking up at Jason and smiled apologetically at him.

Joey then put the phone aside to free his hands.

_They’re going to come back from the mission later than expected. D and pops._ Joey signed. _Pops sent me the text saying that they had a little trouble along the way. But no worries, it’s nothing they can’t handle._

“Your—?” Jason raised his hand without thinking, almost imitating Joey's movement to make the sign that meant “father”, but the motion abruptly stopped in midair.

Astonishment penetrated him like an electric current. The meaning implied by this word instantly froze Jason up. At that same moment, he could hardly pay attention to anything else, not even able to convince himself to start worrying about Renegade’s mission.

“You’re ... Deathstroke's son?” Jason said in a choking voice, swallowing apprehensively, and suddenly felt an unbearable dryness in his throat.

Jericho being a member of Defiance was not a known fact. For what the entire hero community knew, the man didn’t exist and was not included on the list of known villains. It’s precisely because of the surprise factor that he was able to capture Robin with so much ease. That’s something Jason was able to find out on his own, simply enough. He just didn't expect this mysterious member of Defiance was also the son of Slade Wilson.

“Rose is your sister,” Jason gasped out, feeling dizzy and a little nauseous, his voice lowered into an almost whisper-like mutter, “his team members are made up- of his own kids- oh my god …”

He couldn't breathe. He wanted to call for help. Suddenly, Joey's presence no longer reassured him, and the scene that Jason had wanted to escape from ever since it happened suddenly came back to him, flowing through every inch of his skin, making goosebumps spread onto his limbs. The image of Dick forcing himself onto him on this very bed, the drawer full of sex toys near at hand, and Deathstroke’s - sire of the young man in front of him - eyes burning into his skin ... Jason began to hyperventilate, feeling like he could faint at any moment.

Suddenly, he felt something warm gently resting on his shoulder. He shuddered in horror before looking up, his wide eyes met Joey's compassionate ones.

Jason didn't calm down. Instead, he breathed even faster. Until now he hadn’t had a chance to see what Deathstroke looked like behind the mask, but the face of the kind young man in front of him was enough to fill in the gaps. Did Deathstroke also sport the same nose as Joey? Same shape of his face too? Same eyebrows? God, he couldn't even look at those gorgeous green eyes without thinking of Slade. Jason was terrified. Suddenly it’s as if the ground under his feet was pulled out, and he began a freefall, falling down forever without any salvation in sight.

And during the sudden onset of his anxiety attack, Jason felt a pair of long, beautifully shaped arms surrounding him. Then, a warm embrace wrapped him up completely. Joey's breath was weak behind his neck, only able to blow up a few messy strays of hairs. But the sound of the man's heartbeat came steadily pressed against his own chest, beating at an even frequency, providing him the grounding he desperately needed.

Jason tried to adjust his breathing and they eventually slowed down somewhat, but a deep fear and despair then replaced the panic. The reality that he'd been able to escape from for a short period finally started to drag him down again like a heavy piece of cement, and Jason was suddenly able to recall the grim situation he was truly in. He suddenly realized that he wasn't really looking forward to Dick’s return. He was among villains here, and even Joey, the kindest person to him, had Deathstroke’s blood running through him. He should have guessed. This was a person who had participated in the creation of his present predicament, after all.

Jason sobbed into Joey's shoulder, and a teardrop he couldn’t control wet the silk shirt that Joey was wearing. He felt ashamed. He couldn't even keep one last piece of dignity in front of his captor.

Joey hugged him for a few more seconds before letting go. The man pulled away to leave a short distance between them, his green eyes staring at him sadly, his irises looked especially clear in the afternoon sun.

_I know this must sound like a lie to you right now._ Joey signed to him, his slender and beautiful playing-fingers danced gracefully, an art form in and of itself. _But I am not my father. I am sorry for what he did to you. What the_ two of them _had done to you._

Jason bit his lip without saying a word. Joey looked like he was full of regrets. But Jason couldn't come up with an answer. He feared that he wouldn't be able to control his own tears as soon as he started making a sound.

The movements on Joey's hands continued.

_Tell me, what should I do to make it better?_

Jason's fingers clenched into fists, shaking all over. It took him several seconds to straighten enough so as not to cry. And he immediately bared his teeth, venom dripping from his words.

“I think you’ve already done it.”

_I want to help-_

“Leave,” Jason said coldly, again hiding himself inside his protective shell, adorning himself all over with barbed pricks. He wanted to say to himself that he hated Joey, hated him for helping his father kidnap him for Dick; wanted to say that he hated Jericho’s intervention, which caused him to fall into their hands in the first place and caused his continued suffering and so much misfortune. But the truth was Jason did not hate Joey. He hated his own stupidity and arrogance. How useless would Robin have to be for him to ignore his orders in favor of momentary glory, refusing to contact the Teen Titans at such a critical moment during the fight? Dick was right, he _was_ a joke of a replacement.

“I don't wanna see you right now,” Jason said again. He looked away, not wanting to see Joey's somber expression.

With his peripherals, he could make out the words that the youth was signing to him

_I'm deeply sorry. I wished that we were able to meet in better circumstances. I really want to be your friend._

Jason didn't bother to answer. He shrunk into the shape of a ball, using his own curled limbs as a protective screen to isolate himself from the outside world. He refused help from anyone, hurting himself as much as he’s trying to hurt others.

Jason saw Joey sigh with the corner of his eyes. He dropped his head in disappointment and sullenly got up. The man picked up his phone from the nightstand as he turned around, his fingers accidentally touching the tabletop. It suddenly triggered memories that Jason did not want to remember. Regarding the sex toys stuffed in the drawer, Dick deliberately showing him the instruments he was planning to use on him. It was just one of the many insults on him since he was locked up here.

Jason shrunk down into himself tighter and let out a sob. He should be able to handle this situation better. Jason Peter Todd knew better than anyone that the essence of a person shouldn’t be represented by the actions of their parents. He had to know that because he was not his own father, not a criminal who wasted his life on crimes and put himself in prison. He’s Robin. He existed to help others. Bruce would be disappointed with his overreaction in learning Joey’s parentage. Maybe he was already disappointed with how much his Robin failed.

Maybe everything Dick said was correct after all. Perhaps him being here only as a gift that solely existed to please his predecessor - a doll that exists to be fucked - was more useful than him being Robin.

This thought caused Jason to tighten his arms, and the sudden shock suffocated him, and Jason looked up to see Joey’s back as he was turning away -

“Wai-wait a minute-”

Jason quickly got up and jerked forward to grab Joey's sleeve as he was leaving. The chain on his hand clinked with his sudden movement.

He clearly saw the young man's body tensing up before turning his head back, his surprised green eyes widening, framed by his beautiful golden, curly, hair.

“Joey, please,” Jason's voice sounded small and pathetic. The fact he had to beg his captor was almost burning his tongue. “If you mean what you said, if you really feel bad for me, then just-just help me break out of here-”

All of Jason's panic must have been fully present in his eyes. This was a gamble. But when hope was directly in front of him, he simply couldn’t stand here and let the opportunity get away from his grasp.

“Please,” he continued, “you said you're sorry, said you don't want to see him hurt me again, then help me. Open these chains for me.” A sense of desperation found its way into his voice. It was shameful, but Jason had to try.

Never had Jason wished more than now that he had the power to read someone’s thoughts based on their expression. The many emotions flashing on Joey's face this moment were enough to make Jason's body still with fear. Every second of this experience was torture.

Then, under Jason’s frightful and despaired look, Joey pulled his sleeve out of his hand.

_I'm sorry._ He signed. _Dick is my friend. I can't betray him._

Jason was silent. He stayed in place, wrapping his arms around himself, and he had never felt this helpless in his life.

Joey sighed and turned his back to him. He also looked conflicted. For a long time, no one spoke, and the whole room fell into an awkward silence.

Jason had to force himself not to tremble. His eyes were almost shut, so when the blond suddenly turned around and crowded in on him, Jason was completely unprepared for it.

Joey invaded in on his personal space, and Jason's back was forced against the headboard railings. He stared in horror at the man who's now hanging over him, all kinds of memories of being violated and terrible predictions was chaotically bumping into each other in his head, and his heart pounded loudly in his ears. But Joey had only blocked off part of his sight with his own body before suddenly reaching out his hands to move within a small range, making a series of signs to him. The man's features were tight, with a seriousness that Jason had never seen on him before.

It only took a moment for Jason to realize what’s going on. His eyes briefly flashed over Joey's shoulder, and a flash of reflected light could be seen lodged in the gears operating in the open ceiling.

A camera. He never even noticed that the small tech was hidden inside the machinery to monitor him. And right now, Joey's signs were just at the right place to hide within its blind spot.

The man's movements were quick but clear and easy to read. After speaking a few sentences, he used his hand to indicate the position of the belt area on his waist and made a pocketing motion.

And before Jason even realized it he had also begun to move his own lips, silently relaying the message that the man was conveying to him.

_The key, Dick often puts it in the second pocket on the left side of his utility belt. And in the first pocket on the right side is the lock-pick. And although the corridors in the compound are complicated, as long as you keep going that way -_ the man pointed his finger towards a particular direction - _you should be able to get out. Do_ not _take the elevator, use the stairs to reach ground level instead._

Jason was motionless and his mouth gaped in amazement. Joey's signing continued, eyes fixed on him unmovingly.

_Please,_ he said, _I’m not telling you this to help you betray him. Dick is even more capable than you might think. There’s no way you can escape him. Don’t try anything stupid, can you promise me that?_

Jason swallowed. And Joey straightened up again immediately after signing these, picked up the guitar, and left.

+++

Jason fell asleep that night, heart heavy as he contemplated the information that Joey had given him. He was lying with his back towards the door, body curled up on instinct. Even as he was falling asleep, his mind kept on playing out how the scenario might go, what his next steps would be.

It was perhaps right after midnight when Jason was awakened by either a sound or the sense of something touching him. He wasn’t sure which, only felt a second of disorientation as he woke up, temporarily forgetting where he was.

Blinking, Jason saw the concrete walls and the gaping dark hole of a door that led to the bathroom, and the small window that let in the moonlight. It didn’t take him long to realize that he was still inside the little cell that held him during the past few days. By now, this knowledge alone couldn’t even make him feel depressed any more than it already had.

Jason shifted his body slightly—an action that caused his manacles to clink, making him mumble in frustration—trying to wake up his sleepy body as he tried to find the source of stimulant which had awakened him, hairs standing up due to his heightened sense to danger that he’d learned from his time on the streets. The boy found the source without much effort—Dick Grayson, Renegade, or the former Robin—sitting on the chair in front of his bed, bathed under the beam of moonlight, and the sudden terror caused Jason to sit up forcefully, his head protested against the sudden movement with a wave of dizziness.

Renegade had obviously returned from the mission not long ago, still wearing his uniform and armor, and stared at him with unreadable eyes. Even upon seeing Jason wake up, the man’s expression hardly changed.

“Go back to sleep,” he said flatly.

Sleep had completely left Jason. He shuffled back with his heels, keeping his back flush against the railing, stared at Renegade with hatred and hostility as he loudly swallowed.

The window of the cell was so small that even moonlight was often unable to find its way in here. But the time must be just right, and the cool ray of the full moon was at the right angle to illuminate Dick's face, framed by his long, wavy black hair. Dick’s features were so handsome that they could almost make one forget what he’d done to him. However, the armor plates on his uniform were stained with the blood of the victims he had killed, and a thick, metallic scent of the liquid was also penetrating Jason's nostrils. Jason stilled at the fear and despair that the sight Dick presented, and now Dick looked more like a predator that crept under the moonlight waiting his moment to strike. At this very moment, Dick Grayson was no longer the former Robin Jason had admired, but rather a cruel and cold-blooded killer.

Jason couldn't stop shaking.

For a long time, Dick just continued to stare at him with those cool blue eyes, a trace of contemplation could be found in them. Then, instead of saying any more things to Jason, he just got up from the chair and started to slowly take off his armor and uniform.

Jason held the blanket as his body froze in place, his eyes nervously watched Renegade's every move, like a trapped animal forced into the corner of its cage.

“Go back to sleep,” Dick took off his utility belt and placed it on the nightstand— _that's where Joey said the keys and lockpick were pocketed, isn't it—_ while he spoke with a blank tone, undoing the hidden buckles and zippers on the back of his uniform, the beautiful lines of his muscled back shifted with his every move.

Jason opened his mouth and almost wanted to say something, but all he got out of it was his trembling bottom lip.

Dick turned around, undressed. He had placed the armor and suit on the chair, leaving only the briefs he wore, his golden-hued skin reflecting the soft light of the full moon, all high and mighty like the statue of a Greek god carved from fine marble. As he leaned over and started to climb onto the bed, his long, wavy hair fell in front of him, his naked knees pressed against the white sheet, the posture making the muscled contours of his thighs much more defined.

Jason gasped, and the sound of blood rushing to his temples with the rhythm of his heartbeat drowned out the murmurs of the gears in the background. He couldn't think, he couldn't breathe, he watched as the older male approached him, countless thoughts simultaneously flowed through his mind—emotions ranging from fear, to consternation, to _want._

“How did your mission go?” Jason asked, trying to calm himself, maybe just saying anything in order to distract himself, but the tremor in his tone was persistent. “How many people did you harm this time? Huh?”

“A total of about forty or fifty died,” Dick said softly, calm and absent-minded. In an effort to increase the space between himself and his predecessor, Jason's body and the metallic bars of the headboard were so close they were almost one entity. But Dick was indifferent to this goal. He came to Jason and knelt on the bed, caressed the boy's messy hair with the back of his hand almost gently, as if he hadn't noticed even for a second that the boy was so tense he was almost shaking. "I didn't count."

Jason swallowed, his stare harsh. “Don't you know how many people you’ve killed?”

“I lost count a long time ago.”

As Dick said this, he suddenly grabbed the boy's shoulder, movement rough. Fingers pinched into the skin even with the oversized T-shirt protecting him, hard enough to bruise. Then, in spite of the boy thrashing like a frightened animal, he forcibly dragged the struggling Jason to him and laid down while half holding him.

“Relax,” the man said softly to the squirming boy

Jason protested with a sob. But the man's hold on him was unwavering. He was trapped in Dick’s arms, one arm pinned under his own weight, Jason was unable to move even an inch. That was the moment when the grim reality dawned on him, and Jason was all too aware that the person sleeping next to him was one of the most infamous hired killers in recent years, yet there’s nothing Jason could do, only trying to swallow the tears of indignation and helplessness that were threatening to burst out of his sockets.

“I do want you,” Dick said to his ears, and the feeling of the damp breath circling his ear canal caused Jason to shiver, “but not tonight. Not before tomorrow morning. I will make sure you get enough sleep before then.”

Then, the man pushed his shoulder and turned his body over. He wrapped his arms around Jason's waist from behind and hugged him close, his clothed back against a bare chest through the shirt fabric. “So, go back to sleep now.”

Even the trembling of his body was temporarily stopped by the arms enwrapping him. A feeling of being swallowed by both helplessness and security. The iron-tinged smell surrounded Jason, as well as the smell of salty sweat that came from a violent battle that he didn’t witness. It endlessly reminded him of his situation, and Jason knew the person holding him was a villain named Renegade, no longer the Robin he admired, didn’t matter how similar his voice and appearance were to his predecessor. This man was nothing but an evil doppelganger of the former Robin, Dick Grayson.

Trapped within the man's arms, Jason shuddered and closed his moist eyes, cutting off the image of the darkened cell in front of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you tell that I've never touch a guitar in my entire life? LOL
> 
> Kudos and comments are all very appreciated!


	6. Attempt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’m not playing this game with you anymore, fuckers,” he said to himself, letting the chain fall to the ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some things before we begin:
> 
> -there are some hints of Slade/Terra in this chapter  
> -The character origin stories are a sorta mix between the comic and the cartoon, which means they can be a little different than what you are used to. Terra was never a half-princess in this (it simply wouldn't make sense with how her character's particularly portrayed in the show) and Joey especially has a slightly adjusted background story to fit with the isolated nature of his character from the cartoon (though most of his origin is still largely the same as the Pre-reboot comics).
> 
> WARNING: underage, non-con/dub-con, sex toys, all the usual, I'm starting to feel redundant with repeating the same things every chapter😂. Oh, also NSFW art of underage sex.

It’s rare to hear bird-calls from Jason's cell.

The windows here were too small, the walls too thick, and the majority of the room was built underground. The gears in the open ceiling constantly made a noise that drowned out the songbirds. No... Jason wasn’t awakened by the cries of the birds. He was woken by the glimmer of light luckily hitting the single small pane of glass, piercing his eyelids as he slept, as well as the gentle feeling of a hand on his body.

It traced his side, slowly smoothing over his shirt - almost like a loving caress if one could overlook the much deeper and darker intent hidden just beneath its surface. The fingers brushed over the bud on his chest, either carelessly or deliberately, causing it to stand. Jason groaned out in his sleep, and when the hand started to reach southwards, the boy instinctively clamped his legs tight.

The hand retrieved. It rested on Jason's hip before a pair of soft lips brushed the back of his neck, gently kissing the skin there. Jason couldn't help but let out a long whine, this time the sound came out accompanied by some unspoken pleasure. Until he felt some hard protrusion nudging at him from behind, almost rubbing on his butt cheeks.

“Good morning, little wing,” a magnetic voice said, a dangerous sound accompanied by warm breaths, brushing his earlobe, hitting then dispersing over the skin.

These words finally woke Jason. Came to from his morning drowsiness, it disoriented Jason how suddenly he was made aware of his surroundings. He was then only given a few more seconds, barely enough for the boy to discern how he'd been lying side-by-side with his predecessor before the mattress behind him was relieved of another’s weight, and soft and long hair brushed his neck when the man rose from the bed.

As he was suddenly overturned and pressed down, Jason barely had enough time to open his eyes.

The clanking of chains proved that the cuffs were still secured on his wrists. Jason's body was flipped over as Dick grabbed his shoulders. He groaned again, voice heavy with sleepiness. One finger traced the outline of his cheek, the gentle act almost ticklish.

Jason opened his eyes with difficulty. Above him, Dick slightly tilted his head, the expression on the backlit face ambiguous to interpretation. His sight moved with his fingers as they traced along Jason’s features while he calmly observed the boy’s semblance.

The sound of his heartbeat was loud in Jason's ears. His body tensed under Dick, daring not to even make a single move.

“How did the bird fare when I was away?” Dick's voice was low, almost whispering. The look on his face was as elusive as ever, but Jason perceived a relaxed aura from him.

Dick retrieved his hand, but Jason still couldn’t move. He’s all-too-aware of the hardened member pressing against his thigh, and the indication weighed on him, heavy like rocks, bringing about both despair and horror. His predecessor leaned forward, his face pushed towards him, arms entrapping Jason's body in-between. His lips were right beside Jason's ear, long strands of hair falling down and blocking his sight, and the boy's struggles stilled with a terrified shudder.

“I did say that I’d let you get enough sleep, didn’t I?”

The rough sounds of his voice hit the skin with heavying, heated breaths. Then Dick got up and stared at him in silence, those sky-blues trapping him, body to soul, with their stare.

“Dick-” Jason decided to start first, deliberately straightening his face, but unable to suppress the tremor seeping into his voice. His predecessor didn’t give an answer to that, eyes cutting into him like a drill. The man’s pupils didn’t stay fixed in one place, sight tracing the curvature of his cheeks - starting from Jason’s forehead, towards his chin, then pausing on his pupils, almost like studying his thoughts, a silent communication - as if he’s trying to find a weakness in him, maybe some signs of deception from his expressions alone. But Jason refused to give him the pleasure of a confirmation, determined as he glared back with his own fiery stare.

That was before a strong grip suddenly pinched his jaw between a thumb and two fingers. Then, Renegade was already kissing him, before Jason even had the time to realize what was going on.

“Ng-” Jason groaned, his body twisting under the other's body, unable to break free.

When Dick used his thumb to pry Jason's teeth open he didn't even think of resisting. By the time the boy came back from his blanked-out state, his predecessor had entered his mouth with his tongue and had started to invade the space inside. His tongue twisted and licked here and there with a display of power, all the while Jason couldn’t do anything except following his lead. There were no other options.

Dick kissed him for a while before pausing to let Jason gasp for breath and to speak.

“Good boy,” his fingers gently stroked Jason's face, and the latter's body melted with this false praise, to his embarrassment.

“Be a good doll for me,” his predecessor said.

Then he kissed Jason again, and the boy gasped desperately under his lips. Jason shut his eyes and squeezed out a whimpering noise from his esophagus, half from discomfort and half from excitement. Dick’s hands then found the hem of his large shirt with ease, flipping it up before taking it off slowly.

Dick had to briefly pull away in order to get the shirt fully off of him, and Jason involuntarily whined in protest. But Dick quickly found his way between his teeth again, while his hands kept busy by taking off Jason's pants, and the boy let him, almost putting up no resistance.

The contact of his exposed skin with cool air caused Jason to shake a little, the wet sounds of the kiss kept resonating throughout the room. And, as Dick finally withdrew and began to peck chaste little kisses onto his lips, Jason even reluctantly chased after him. The boy had temporarily forgotten what this was all about, not coming to his senses even when Dick maneuvered his legs to wrap around his waist and started to pull the drawer open and rummaged through it, while kept at giving out his wet, noisy pecks; not even so much flinched when the familiar  _ pop _ sounded as the lube was flipped open. Jason's muddled brain was completely overrun by sexual ecstasy.

He didn’t react, not until his predator finally let go of his lips and Jason cracked his eyes open, blurry with tears, then finding himself staring right back at Dick as he squeezed the lube onto his open palm with loud gurgling sounds, smearing the liquid all over his fingers.

Jason blinked his wet lashes a few times, as if unsure of what he was seeing, then, after shutting them briefly, he opened his eyes again. When Jason was finally convinced of the things he saw, panic swept over him.

“-Wait-” he quickly said, his small voice sounding more like a murmur than anything. The man before him gently stroked his hair, and Jason moaned out helplessly, before his captor shushed him with a soft coo.

“Relax, little wing,” Renegade said almost tenderly. Jason couldn't decide whether he was being truly empathetic or putting up a cruel and fake facade.

Jason whined before slurring out in a tiny, sad little voice, “Please, don't-”

Lubricated fingers massaged between his butt cheeks for a moment, lightly poking at the folds of his entrance, gentle as if it was just testing the waters, making his muscles twitch with anticipation. The teasing caused Jason to grind his teeth, and he couldn’t help it as a heated desire started to flow to the organ between his legs. Then, Renegade’s index and middle fingers slipped into him all in one stroke, meeting no resistance at all. The boy gasped out, his body straightened, and painful though the act was, his body took in the slick fingers relatively easily.

“Un-ah…” Jason’s body tightened around the fingers helplessly, tense from both the soreness and terror, and he grabbed Dick’s arm without thinking as his fingers tightly clenched the man’s sculpted muscles. Then Renegade’s fingers started to move in and out of him slowly, gradually picking up speed.

“How have you been during the time I’ve been away?” Dick said softly, not displaying a single hint of emotion, almost acting like he wasn’t currently fucking his fingers into his successor again and again. “Did Joey make good company?”

“Dick-”

Then Jason tried to tighten his legs, and suddenly all-too-conscious of how completely he was exposed to Renegade with his leg splayed out like this, and he almost shrieked when Dick's fingers jabbed into a particular tender spot with numerous nerve endings. None of Jason’s pathetic pleas had any effect.

“Your prostate is sensitive today. It’s something we can work with,” Dick said absent-mindedly, returning to topic.

By now, with his morning sleepiness finally receded, Jason began to recognize how bad the situation was - his captor back from the mission, taking him now as a reward for himself after another task well done; an entertainment after his hard work - while Jason was in no position to voice any protest. Whatever was in his mind wasn’t relevant, so the only thing Jason could manage was to turn his head away in an act of defiance, shutting his eyes to prevent the wetness from pouring forth, a whimper leaving his tightly-clamped lips. He’d rather bear this with as much detachment as he’s able to muster, rather than giving his abuser even a little bit of satisfaction by seeing him beg.

The fingers pushed into him again, causing Jason to gasp, body arching upwards. But Dick's hand only followed the motion of his hips as they curved and tilted, finding it easier to reach deeper. The fingers began to move in and out of his body, making scissoring motions, opening him up and preparing his entrance with great expertise, all the while their tips only barely brushed past his prostate once in a while, whether intentional or not Jason couldn’t tell.

Jason had hoped to find the pleasurable spot on his own, or to discover and explore it with a partner who loved and cared for him, rather than where he was right now, invaded and exploited by the predecessor that he’d once - ( _ still) _ \- admired.

Dick's fingers exited him with a wet  _ pop. _ Then, not wasting a single second, the man pulled at his own waistband to release the huge cock from its confines inside his briefs before he started to smooth the lube onto the rock-hard organ. Jason was now drowning in terror. Pressing his eyes tight, he forced his body still. His only indication of Dick’s action was the lewd wet sounds made by the movements of his hands.

The sound stopped. The alarming silence prolonged until he suddenly felt a sharp pain shoot through one side of his face. Jason opened his eyes, shocked, only realizing after a second that Dick had just slapped him, which wasn’t too painful, but the suddenness was enough to attract his full attention.

“Robin, open your eyes and face me -” Dick said, pulling one of Jason's legs away to haul it onto his shoulder, and Jason found himself lacking the will to pull away. Renegade then leaned forward, aligning the head of his cock with the entrance before raising his eyes, cold blues staring at him expressionless - “I want you to look at me the whole time I’m fucking you. Remember who this is all for.”

Dick's still but fiery and passionate countenance suddenly reminded Jason that this was the first time he could look at his predecessor's nudity when he was getting fucked. However, no matter how much animosity he could see on the man's face - how much bad intentions to hurt and destroy and  _ ruin _ it presented - the only thing Jason saw was the picturesque template of the pitch-perfect human.

The man's copper-toned skin radiated a golden luster in the morning sun, and his long, wavy hair hung as his eyes cast downward. In the sun, Renegade's naked torso made him look more like the flawless and beautiful demigod. This picture alone was enough to compel more blood flowing southwards to Jason’s crotch, and the hatred more or less sculpted on Renegade’s face was only successful in making Jason’s own body burn more feverishly than ever. He started to recall all those times he used to secretly touch himself as he re-watched the videos he was able to find at the manor of the former Robin, and his cock started to harden with the thought alone.

Dick started to push in, and Jason made a noise that sounded like a mix of both a moan and a pained squeal.

His brain was so preoccupied with the pain that only the soft shushes Dick was whispering to his ear and the hand soothingly caressing his hair felt real. The bit of resistance his entrance put up wasn’t a problem at all for Dick, and the man didn’t pause at Jason's incoherent pleas even in the slightest. He continued to push inward, and the pain made Jason sink his fingertips into Dick's forearm and clutching tight, until most of the organ had made its way into his passage.

Dick straightened, and the thumb and index finger of his right hand had somehow started to pinch a slender silver-colored rod between them, the steel glaring in the sunlight. It was about two inches, the entirety of the short length was covered with small, bumpy spherical structures, the largest of which was located at the tip. By the time Jason made out the item with his cloudy vision, his predecessor was already applying more lubricant onto the small, delicate instrument.

The sounds of Jason’s sobbing continued. “Please-” he whispered, and the pain from his stretched-out hole was taking the breath out of him. Jason’s head tilted weakly to the side, his blurred vision unable to focus as they resided on the far wall. Licking his chapped lips, Jason didn’t even know to whom or for what was he imploring, “Dick, I-”

“Shush, little wing,” Dick comforted him. Finishing the preparatory works, he then lined the thinner end of the rod to the slit on the boy's congested glans. And as he started to push it in, Jason cried out in horror.

“No-what do you-wait-”

“-This is the smallest size out there,” Dick interrupted him as he continued, explaining calmly, “I know you secretly longed for these things to be used on you. However, it’s not wise to start your training with any sizes larger than this.”

Jason wanted to refute, wanted to say that he didn't even want to so much as fucking look at the obscene toys Dick had prepared for him, but what’s happening right now scared him and any voice of reason escaped him. Dick continued to push the plug inwards. Jason watched in horror as the spherical tip of the toy slid into his slit with a wet gurgle, causing a stinging sensation to shoot out from the inside of his organ, the sharp pain continued and Jason let out a painful groan. Even though it was well lubricated, his urethra was briefly overcome with the type of soreness not dissimilar from skin ripping as it was stretched out a little too much, making Jason twitch, but he couldn't throw Dick off, so clenching his teeth and bearing it was the best he could do. The round bulges lining that thing kept stimulating the inside of his channel, yet in addition to the pain, there was also a thrill starting to flow through his body which Jason had never experienced before. A much deeper, more hidden pleasurable sensation that made this current session different than the previous ones.

“Uh-um-”

Jason moaned unwillingly, his body arching upward. Dick kept pushing the toy in, at the same time starting to roll it left and right, constantly changing the rod’s direction, prompting a wave of moans and whimpers to spill forth from the boy's mouth.

The process didn’t actually take more than two or three minutes max. Even though it was a horrific act done to degrade him, Dick's movements were surprisingly gentle and careful, though the process still felt longer than the time it actually took. During this time, Jason’s cock had become so enlarged that it became almost unbearable, and Dick continued until the small metal rod was completely inserted, leaving only the topmost sphere exposed, the slightly larger ball plugging up the entrance of his urethra. By the time the longlasting torture finally came to an end, Jason's moans had gradually receded into hoarse breaths. But his gasps for breath turned into sobs again when Dick's finger suddenly poked at his sacks.

“Dick-don't-” Jason pleaded, voice distorted by tears.

Dick flicked the exposed metal sphere with his finger, causing the rod to vibrate inside his penis. Jason cried out again

“Do you enjoy this sensation?” Dick asked.

Jason looked at his predecessor in horror, his slightly parting lips trembled with fear. And Dick then started to slowly pull the plug out before pushing it back in, all the while his other hand skillfully stoked along the length, the boy couldn't help but moan, as if he was being condemned all at once to both heaven and hell, every muscle in his body tensing up and relaxing in a hellish continuous cycle that was in sync with the man’s repetitive movements, eager to find release after enduring the inhuman stimulation for so long.

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes’,” Renegade hummed.

The boy sobbed softly. He shut his eyes before turning his head, trying to think about something else. Trying not to think about what Dick was doing with his hands, instead, try to remember the information Joey gave him. Focusing on the escape he was surely planning. Thinking about the best way to take the keys without Renegade noticing, do that instead of letting himself overwhelmed by the things his predecessor was doing to him, depriving him of everything that had ever belonged to him, and even the little dignity he still possessed - the final right to control his own body - was now being robbed from him as well. His eyes cracked open only a slit, focusing on the gray-colored utility belt lying on the side table, his gaze resting on the second pocket on its left side. All the while the wet, grunting noises continued as Dick stroke and stimulated his length.

“Do you think it will work?”

Renegade’s voice suddenly resonated around him.

“-What?”

Jason's eyes sharply shot back up. Through his fogged-up vision, he saw Dick leaning forward, and he was immediately being captured in those beautiful azure irises.

“Do you think you’ll succeed?” the man repeated, voice cold.

Jason’s mouth parted in shock. Did that mean Dick... his captor, had found out about his goal?

But how was this possible, he argued? Was Renegade able to figure out his plan from just his line of vision? No, that couldn’t be true - Jason refused to even entertain such a possibility. Yet it was also true that Joey faced away from the camera when he was communicating to him. Perhaps the surveillance footage of that picture alone was enough for someone as sharp as Renegade to deduce the exchange between them. Or... maybe. Maybe Joey did in fact confess everything as soon as he left. To Dick - a friend he’s unwilling to betray.

Jason bit his lower lip and sobbed. He didn't want to consider the possibility that Joey could betray his trust. The idea was just too painful. Even when Jason understood wholeheartedly that there’s no way that the feeble friendship he and Joe had built in two days could even hold a candle to the man’s years of friendship with Dick, he still couldn’t contain the disappointment that he’d feel.

But Renegade’s next words interrupted Jason's thoughts.

“Joining the Titans,” Dick quickly clarified. “Their Robin is no longer with them, so you think you can just come in, take his place, and replace him as part of that family. Do you think it will succeed? Do you think the Titans - my teammates - will just gladly open their arms and accept you as my substitute, welcoming you into the team?”

Jason’s eyes widened as he stared at Renegade in shock.

Dick gradually picked up pace as he kept stroking the boy’s shaft. His warm palm wrapped around his cock as it moved in sync with the plug inside his urethra, the slick lube kept making wet, lewd sounds as the movement continued. And his predecessor had also started to thrust forward into him again, pushing his dick so deep in his passage that Jason felt like it went places that it had never been, and the thickness of the length kept pounding into his prostate, causing Jason to let out a cry that was half caused by pain and half by pleasure.

“Robin,” his predecessor said cruelly, “deep down, you know full well that you can never live up to this name, don’t you, now? The Titans are not like Defiance, they are  _ good, _ and they let you stay only because it’s the right thing to do.”

“Di-Dick, please-” Jason cried out with a kind of wetness in his voice, his body spasmed with the endless pleasure and agony, and the words he spat out almost lacked meaning- “I-no-ah- can’t-”

He couldn't stand it anymore. This was too much, and Jason released his seed without much more encouragement. Dick relaxed the fingers holding the plug, and the steel instrument bounced out of his slit when the milky liquid shot out as he came. His cum splashed out after the initial pressure at the exit, splashing onto his flat stomach and Dick's hands.

Jason sobbed as Dick let go of his organ, quickly shifting his legs to wrap around his waist again. Jason’s mind almost blanked out after the orgasm, so he was completely passive and motionless when Dick pulled himself out, putting up no resistance and making no preparations as he was suddenly being bumped into again with much force. Another scream pulled at his dry esophagus, weak and hoarse due to lack of fluid.

It was then when Jason felt three fingers find their way between his teeth and into the cavity of his mouth. Dick's fingers were still covered with his own bitter-tasting cum, and Jason's lips helplessly wrapped around the digits as he let out an indistinct moan through them.

“Cleanse them, Robin,” he heard Renegade say, “lick them up.”

Jason had no choice. Dick's fingers began to reach even deeper into his throat, digits putting pressure on his tongue. And all he could do was to follow the man’s orders, sucking on his own cum and licking it clean, all the while pathetically hoping that his obedience could provoke some form of kindness and mercy from his abuser. Erotic, wet noises echoing out from his lips.

At the same time, the entire length of Dick's cock pulled out almost completely before he thrust in again. Burying the entire thing inside of Jason's body, he knocked his body up, a pained sob slurring out behind the fingers still jammed between the teeth.

“Looks like Joey was very forgiving to you, wasn’t he?” Dick asked between thrusts, almost chatty, as if what he’s doing wasn’t completely unspeakable.

The fingers that reached into Jason's mouth were drawn out with a grunt, making the boy groan as his saliva pulled into a long and thin silky strand. Renegade then began to gently stroke one of the legs Jason had wrapped around his waist with one of his hands, while the other held and stabilized the boy’s waist as it was hit by another violent slam. Other than a slight breathlessness to his voice, the man sounded so calm it was impossible to discern any emotion from his tone alone - “Let me tell you something, then-”

Jason couldn't think of an answer. He swallowed the excess saliva and cum in his mouth, having barely enough of his remaining strength to endure Dick's continued aggression. The repeated impacts on the sensitive nerve bundles in his body caused a tingly feeling to run through his body. His cock, which had just found release moments ago, was already getting more blood pumped into it as its sensitivity increased. Dick's words couldn't take any meaning in his chaotic little head as his sharp gasps and moans echoed throughout the room.

“-You think Defiance is so different from the Titans, do you, now?" Dick said, slightly heaving, “you think I'm such a different case than your Titans. The Teen Titans are kind, perfect humans, so high up on that impossible pedestal you’ve put your former Robin onto, it’s impossible for them to even make a single mistake in your eyes... while how come I, your predecessor, had turned out to be so evil, and so  _ wicked-” _

His hips snapped forward with every couple of words he spoke, his dick filling Jason's body, again and again, the boy's moans became intermittent as they were cut off with each and every thrust.

“-every Titan has their dark past, that’s what makes us special. Whether that meant having bodily modifications after a deadly accident, or simply born to the world as the offspring of a demon only for the purpose of ending it-” Dick continued cruelly, his voice came out panting- “and what about all those evil, hateful members of Defiance? You know, Joe was kidnapped by Slade's adversaries when he was only nine years old, his throat cut because of his own father’s arrogance. Then he was hidden by his mother in the monasteries in the Himalayas for most of his life before his father found him for the purpose of building this team—"

Dick's hip snapped forward again, jostling Jason's body up, over and over again. The boy had to bite his lip to stop himself from crying.

“-Tara had been alone ever since she was a child. She had no one to take care of her. Thanks to her special abilities she had no real friends either, and even her loved ones didn’t want to have anything to do with her. She left because she wanted a fresh start from those who feared her, stowing away to America from her home in Markovia. The Titans couldn’t give her what she truly needed, so she chose Deathstroke instead... and then, there’s Rose-” Jason uttered a cry when the next thrust had too much force put into it, and Dick reached unprecedented depths, prompting the small hole to twitch around his cock- “Rose had been living in Slade’s shadow ever since she was a child. He never paid attention to her, choosing instead to leave me with the responsibility of training her. Unsatisfied and eager to prove to her father of her worth, she even cut out her own eye to appease him. So - don’t you make any assumptions, kid. There’s no one here who doesn’t bear a dark history. We are all freaks in nature.”

Dick then crouched down, and those cool eyes donning the unnaturally beautiful face almost petrified Jason. The boy jumped in fear, now being way too aware of how insanely handsome his predecessor was, as well as noticing the sweat on his face, even though the man’s lips were almost pulled into a hostile snarl.

“Sometimes it takes only one wrong step and you won't be able to go back,” Dick leaned close to him, staring coldly into his eyes. “The difference between us and them is only one single step. Raven knows all about this, Roy and Gar, too, but they will never discuss this with you. Because, whether they admit it or not… every one of them knows that there was ever really one person who was truly ‘Robin’. No one knows my former teammates the way I do - we’ve always shared a tacit understanding. And you, nothing but a sad joke that Bruce picked up from the streets. A dirty street rat. You were never one of them.”

Jason stared back, eyes filled with flames of defiance. But he couldn't hold back the wetness in his eyes and the tremor of his lower lip, trying to bare his teeth and growl, yet the only sounds that came out were the trembling noises like that of an injured animal. This wasn’t the first or even the second time he’d been so thoroughly insulted and trampled into the dust by his predecessor, he should’ve felt numb by now, yet the agony it brought did not even reduce by a little.

Another one of Dick’s undue pushes made Jason cry out in pain. The hands he was waving and pushing at Dick as a defense mechanism was grabbed, wrists held together before they were pressed down above his head. Jason let out an angry roar, like a beast forced into a corner, teeth and claws thrashing about, however useless and pathetic his attempt was.

“Keep screaming,” the man above him said.

Jason blinked in confusion, staring at his abuser through his tear-blurred eyes.

“Keep screaming out, Robin,” Dick ordered. His voice sounded calm, yet he could no longer conceal the breathless excitement brought on by the blood rushing in his veins. He pressed forward, his lowered voice sounded too soft and intimate, almost whispering as he closed in on the boy’s cheek, “continue to cry out, get enraged, but also understand fully that it’s all to no avail. Understand that you cannot change anything. I want you to carve this knowledge deep into your head.”

Jason’s angry growls gradually turned into a sobbing whimper as the man kept fucking into him. Renegade's warm breaths caused a tremor to shoot through the boy’s body. If it were not for the undeniable fact that he was being raped, one might even think it’s the kind of sweet nothings that a lover would whisper to their partner. Jason blinked and stared at the man's alluring appearance through the saltiness, at the beads of sweat decorating his toned torso, and the unshakable expression that spoke of heat and desire and  _ want. _

Perhaps it was not only vengeance for Dick - even though every word he said sounded like blades poisoned with loathing and malice. But Jason had no choice but to accept that his predecessor did like doing this. Because he  _ wanted _ him - he liked fucking him and  _ conquering _ him. He liked to keep Jason as his bed partner only to draw his dark and twisted pleasures from the reactions Jason displayed as he was being used. He’s an object for use, not only as a warm body to fuck into and to  _ degrade, _ but also as an untainted spirit to do the same thing to.

The bastard enjoyed every second of this. He  _ loved _ it, in fact. He wanted to  _ possess _ Jason, both in body and in spirit.

How much Jason wanted to hate him.

It’s hard not to weep. He tried and failed, and the same moment Jason's tears burst out Renegade also released his seed into him.

+++

Dick had put on a cozy shirt and sweatpants after his shower, none of which Jason could recall him bringing into the room.

The man now exuded the fragrance of shampoo - the smells of fresh lemon and sandalwood. Jason hated how he looked so dazzling no matter how formally or casually he dressed, always making his heart beat faster with the mere sight of him; bringing heat to his cheeks.

Jason refused when asked to shower with Dick. The thought of being naked with his predecessor alone for any more minutes made Jason panic (made him feel ashamed of himself). That’s why when Dick, who was currently drying his hair with a towel, walked out of the bathroom, Jason deliberately curled up on the bed while keeping his eyes looking the other way. He shut them and tried to calm his breath, trying to suppress the confusion in his mind. With his own manic heartbeat, Jason couldn't even hear any sound other than his blood rushing up to his ears, anxiety making him lightheaded. Jason could sense that Dick was approaching, so he kept his eyes away as he hesitantly presented his wrists, waiting for his warden to unlock the cuffs.

No contact came to his limbs. Instead, his jaw was suddenly clamped by a firm grip. By the time Jason was forced to turn his head, Dick's face was inches away from him.

“Keep fighting,” Renegade said, leaning to his ear, the heat of his breaths reaching his skin with every syllable, “it makes my blood boil.”

Jason swallowed. Before pulling back, the man leaned forward to kiss the corner of his mouth, forceful, possessive in nature, so very different from the passionate kiss of a lover.

“I'll go get breakfast,” Dick said, his face still close enough for Jason to feel the waves of breaths, but his hands had already found the shackle on Jason's wrist and quickly unlocked it. “I trust that you’ll go take a shower like a good boy during the time I’ll be away, instead of trying anything stupid, is that right?”

Jason gaped at his predecessor, trying to hide the turbulent emotions he was feeling. 

“O-of course,” he forced himself to say.

Dick snorted as the cuffs clicked open, then he straightened up again, and Jason ran his hand along his temporarily freed wrists. His mind was so preoccupied that he was caught off guard when a bottle of water was placed in his hands.

“I have a new wardrobe for you,” Dick said, “drink this and replenish the fluids you’ve lost, then go take your shower. You’ll be able to change into some new clothes when you come out.”

As he watched his predecessor disappear behind the locking door, Jason swallowed, and his eyes drifted back towards the utility belt sitting quietly on the nightstand.

But then Jason briefly stopped to identify the location of the hidden camera in the ceiling with his peripherals, the dazzling sunlight it reflected betraying its location. He’d completely forgotten that it existed ever since Dick returned from the mission, but now when things finally calmed down a little, the reality it represented suddenly dawned on Jason.

Someone was hidden behind the camera all these times, observing him - all those times he was violated, times exploited, times  _ defiled... _ someone had been a witness to all of them. Just like how one would enjoy some perverted pornography, it was a kind of voyeuristic recreation, and Jason was the subject of entertainment. This gave him a rush of the need to get up and throw something at it, hoping that his pathetic and weak attempt could at least damage the damned apparatus to some extent. But Jason knew it wouldn’t do any good. The thought of all the times that Renegade had forced himself on him had all been recorded(and who’s hiding behind the camera anyway? Joey, Rose, Tara,  _ Slade...) _ , Jason just couldn’t bear his tears of shame.

But he had no time to immerse himself in self-pity. Any other time Jason would’ve allowed himself to drown in his pain and self-deprecation, but this time it was different. This was the first time ever since he was taken here that he’d seen the light of hope, and he hadn’t any time to allow the poisons of his mind to intoxicate himself. No matter what he felt, Jason had to suppress it and push himself into executing the plan. This could be the only chance for a long while that he’d get to leave this nightmare, once and for all.

Jason screwed the lid back and put it back onto the drawer top. Dick said he was going to get breakfast, which would give him at least a few minutes for execution. Enough to locate the key.

Jason waited for a few more seconds, confirming that Dick wouldn’t suddenly come back in, he began to act.

The boy whined when he stepped barefoot on the ground. A soaring, piercing pain shot down onto his legs, almost causing them to give out, trembling. His... session with Renegade had also left a stinging pain for his nether region. He was in a terrible situation, not at all suitable for an escape attempt. But Jason gritted his teeth, forced down the pain, and stood up, supporting himself using the nightstand with his palm flat on the surface, his fingertips barely touching the strap of Dick’s belt.

Right then was when his leg collapsed from under him.

Jason fell to the ground in a heap, knocking down the chair beside the bed. As the furniture fell, the hard surface of its backrest as well as Renegade’s suit and armor resting on top painfully collided with him. The belt was also pulled down with him as he fell. He landed on the most bony parts of his body, his knees and the sides of his pelvis, the metal armors digging into his flesh. It was fucking painful.

However, this was also the best position to land in for what he was planning.

In the messy heap, Jason used the fallen chair as coverage as he started to rummage through the second pocket on the left of the belt, as Joey had instructed. He almost had to be thankful that his body was in such a bad condition. It couldn’t be easier for him to fake the fall in order to retrieve the tools he needed. Jason didn't know who was on duty behind the camera and how persistent they were about monitoring him. But he couldn’t take any risks.

Jason used the skills he learned on the street to quickly walk through the items. Darts, smoke bombs... Fuck! No keys! That’s when he suddenly realized something. The key was in Dick’s hand when he left for the door. It must’ve been, he needed it to re-enter, after all. With that knowledge, Jason quickly turned shrewdly to the first pocket on the right. The risk that came with the key was greater anyway, Jason told himself. Dick would certainly notice it was missing rather quickly. Besides, Jason was trained by Batman, a lock-pick was enough to ensure his escape anyway.

And - bingo! Jason's hand touched a small cuboid made of metal. He took it out and pulled out from it a series of lock-picks of different shapes, fanning out like a Swiss army knife. This was exactly what he was looking for. Jason promptly slid the little prop under the table, and then hurriedly buckled up both of the pockets on the belt to make the crime scene look as innocent as possible.

But at the same moment, there’s something inside the pile of Renedage’s uniform that attracted Jason's attention. Precisely, it was a piece of silver armory within the mass of the suit.

It belonged to the left forearm, the silvery shiny surface of the metal reflecting the warmth and brightness of the sunlight. After numerous missions wearing it, it was covered in scratches in various lengths, some deep and some shallow. It seemed that Dick might have had a tendency to use his protected forearm to block physical attacks, which wasn’t anything new. What really caught Jason's attention was a set of four new scratches on the thing. Jason knew that it was new, because there was some newly dried dirt still stuck in the dents. And the thickness of the mark, the shape of it… were too familiar.

He picked the armor up from the ground, eyebrows furrowed in deep concentration as he inspected it. It was also then when a click sounded from the door.

His predecessor walked in, a tray of breakfast in one hand and a stack of clothes in the other. Dick used his knee to hold the door open temporarily as he pulled out the key.

“Joey really put work into making the best foods for you, didn’t he?” the man said absentmindedly, “he hasn’t made anything so ravishing for  _ us _ for a long time.”

The sound of his footsteps slowed down. Even without looking up, Jason could feel steel blue eyes burning into him. 

Yet Jason didn’t move. Rather than acting scared like one should after being caught, Jason instead felt another kind of panic, a new type of fear, enough to make him freeze, his limbs stiff, and all his intelligence seemed to escape him.

“Dick, did you—” he spoke, voice trembling so much that he had to stop in the middle of the sentence to swallow.

Without looking up, Jason heard Dick let out an impatient sigh, before placing the tray and clothes onto the nightstand.

The marks he was seeing on the armor were scratches from a species of big cat. Scratches from a tiger.

Jason closed his eyes nervously, taking a deep breath, his worries and fears almost causing his following words to shrink back into his throat.

“Did you, in the mission-”

He asked hoarsely, by the time he was halfway through the sentence he was already scared of the answer that he might get.

“-did you fight the Teen Titans?”

Dick didn't answer. Jason’s shoulders tensed up, forcing himself to swallow his fears, he raised his head, looking into the man’s unreadable eyes.

“These scratches are from Beast Boy,” Jason said, showing him the armor. Since Dick still didn't answer, Jason went on.

“Is that why your mission was delayed?” His voice raised, a hint of accusation creeping into them. “You were doing great with your mission until the Teen Titans intercepted. They suspect that Defiance had something to do with me missing, so they obstructed your mission, wanting to get more information out of you-”

His words became faster until he was almost garbling them, his keen analysis of the situation seemed out-of-place in comparison with the panicked tone of his voice.

“-What happened then?” he asked, full of condemnation, “sure, you all came back from the mission safely, but did they- did Deathstroke-”

He could hardly continue as realization suddenly hit him, causing Jason’s breath to catch in his throat.

“-Fuck! Last night- the blood! And… gosh, it's all my fault- I swear Dick, if you hurt any of them, I-”

His unfinished threats, already insignificant, were suddenly cut off as a fist aggressively clenched the front of his shirt. Dick grabbed and bunched up the fabric around Jason's collar, pulling him to his feet. He was then pushed against the wall with a loud thud, Dick’s forearm pressing at his throat, and the man's intimidating form forced him to retreat, back straight against the wall. Jason's wide eyes stared at his predecessor with trembling pupils. 

Dick's face was strained with a kind of fury that Jason had never seen in him. His brows furrowed, his eyes flickered, and his lips pulled back to reveal a snarl. This was not much different than the type of danger that Renegade had always represented to Jason, except this time there’s an added inkling of unpredictability.

“Never. Ever-” Renegade said, word by word, intimidating in every syllable - like if Jason dared make one wrong move then he’d suddenly lose an eye or his tongue-“under any circumstance, suggest that I might hurt my friends. If I ever hear you say this again, I will make sure that you pay - and I’ll make sure that you’d remember it. Do you understand?”

The paranoid enmity flashing in Renegade's eyes somehow gave Jason a hunch that he wasn’t lying. Every message he was relaying, every word he spoke, was dead serious.

Jason swallowed and stared at him in horror, his sight completely attracted by Renegade’s pale blue eyes. He opened his mouth slightly, as if wanting to say something, but his lips were trembling, and no sound came out.

Dick pressed his body against the wall for a few more seconds, his strength unwavering, as if giving Jason time to digest what had just been said.

When he released his arm, Jason couldn't stop his body from falling back down onto the bed.

“Go take your shower,” Dick said, his eyes turned away, a nostalgic sentiment in his tone, “before I put the cuffs back on you.”

+++

Jason waited until nightfall.

He wore a new short-sleeved T-shirt and shorts that Dick brought him, much more fitted to his form than what he wore previously, even paired with canvas shoes. He hadn’t worn shoes in days, and they arrived just in time. Jason did  _ not _ like the idea of having to run away barefoot after he’d succeeded in unlocking the door, not one bit.

Jason was clueless about what the terrain outside the base might look like - undoubtedly a disadvantage for him. Maybe there’s a forest outside, a wilderness where you could walk on for days without running into people. Maybe what lied just beyond the exit was someplace impossible to walk in. Maybe they were situated on a cliff where there’s no way of leaving except by a helicopter or some kind of aircraft. God, they might even be on an island, surrounded by the vast salty waters of the Pacific Ocean!

But there’s no use thinking about it now. Dick refused to reveal the location to him, so the only thing Jason could do was use the limited information he had to improvise his next steps. Besides, even if they were really at a place where it’s impossible for him to leave on foot, his kidnappers would surely have some way to travel to and from here. He might be able to steal one of the villains' ships or helicopters. If Jason could get his hands on the lockpick then he could steal aircraft, too, Batman taught him enough to do something like that.

Pretending that he was just getting off the bed to stretch, Jason cleverly used his toes to hook the lockpick hidden under the nightstand and hid it in his hand. Then he laid back on the bed, making sure that he had his entire body hidden under the blanket, Jason began to quietly pry the locks on his cuffs.

Working in the dark was indeed tricky, but Jason dared not turn on the lights or stick his head out from under the blanket. He couldn't risk being caught on camera - although Jason didn't think he was important enough that members of Defiance felt the need to monitor him twenty-four-seven.

After several failed attempts, Jason took a deep breath and warned himself against being impatient. The night was still young, he had plenty of time. He preferred to do this slowly and cautiously, rather than to increase the risk of being discovered in favor of speed.

Jason switched between the tools, inserting the numerous metal rods into the keyhole and carefully turning them. He didn't know how much time he’d spent in total, but his efforts were not in vain. After several attempts, the shackle on his left hand opened with a click.

Jason almost cheered. But his work was not yet finished. He then pried open the cuff on his other hand using the same method, by then he was already more proficient and needed less time to finish the task.

Jason sighed with relief, squeezing his wrist between his fingers, moving them around, and testing their flexibility. He almost lifted the blanket immediately to get out of bed, fully prepared to do the same with the locked door of his cell - if someone else hadn't suddenly pushed the door open before he could get to it.

Jason's body froze as he was halfway from getting up. His hands were still hidden under the cover - luckily - but the motion of the door made him shudder with fear, his wide eyes focusing on the entrance, confident that he would see Renegade standing there.

However, the backlit figure at the door was significantly shorter than Dick and the appearance was more feminine. The figure had long, straightened hair, and the silk nightgown she wore reached her knees. As she leaned over the door frame, Jason could see a cigarette in her hand, the head of which was still emitting a silky smoke.

Jason didn't know which he smelt first - the smoke, or the overly sweet perfume that Tara was wearing.

She turned to her side, and the lights in the hallway illuminated the girl's doll-like face. Her silk gown was tied extremely loosely on her body, the front was too wide open, revealing too much of her milky skin, causing the fuchsia-colored marks on her bare neck exceedingly visible to the eyes. Her long blond hair occasionally reflected the lights from the hall.

Then, he saw Terra place the cigarette between her lips and took a long inhale. Jason found himself unable to look away. He couldn't even focus his attention on the girl's half-exposed breasts. He could only stare at the smoke in her hand.

God, how much Jason wanted to have a cigarette right now! He needed one. How long had it been since his last smoke?

“I'm sorry it took so long for me to come here,” the girl said at the door, retrieving the smoke from her lips. “I wanted to come earlier. But you know how competent old men can be when they are  _ in the mood.” _

This was obviously not a question for him, so Jason chose not to answer, and neither did he want to hear any of the specifics. Instead, he asked with hostility, “What are you doing here, traitor?”

Tara turned to look at him, her entire face backlit.

“I'm curious,” she spoke, ending it with a rising accent, a hint of pettiness perpetually ingrained in her high-pitched song-like voice, “Slade told me all about what Dick was doing with you. And I wanted to know what kind of exotic pet can interest Renegade so much.”

“I'm not his pet,” Jason said grimly, frowning.

“Go ahead and tell yourself that, brat,” Tara replied. She took another drag before sighing impatiently.

“All you Robins,” she said, “initially all full of righteousness, always wanting to bring the good out of people who simply do not have them. Your kind always inspires delusions in people at the beginning, making them falsely believe that they could actually become  _ better. _ But after enough time has passed, they  _ will _ realize that these are all but illusions. Grayson isn’t a naive boy anymore, he won’t keep on falling into your seduction to the good side.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“I'm talking about all the unrealistic illusions you have about Grayson, little Robin,” Tara changed her posture, resting the hand holding the cigarette on her hip, the smoke continuously drifted upwards. By now Jason could clearly see the love marks on her neck, those darker spots on her fair skin could be faintly made out even if her skin was backlit. “You know, when I was in the Titans, the fools more than just provided me with acceptance and love - they  _ drowned _ me in them. Garfield was the especially outstanding one, and your Robin, too-” She made a gesture with her chin which Jason understood to be an address at Dick- “Tried so hard to make me feel like I was at home. What a pity. He had so much potential!”

Tara paused. Then she took another drag.

“If it wasn’t for Grayson seeking out Slade to help him get revenge on Starfire’s killer, his talent would’ve all been wasted. You know, the Robin who used to try and convince me to stay good was nothing but a delusion. A mask that he made for himself in order to be accepted by the people around him. He wanted to be a good person because he thought he should, that it’s simply the right thing to do, but that was never him. Over time, he’d finally accepted who he really is. Renegade is the real him.”

Jason listened to this passively, heart sinking. He even wanted to open up his lips to answer with  _ I know, _ but his throat felt dry beyond belief.

Fortunately, Tara didn't notice his uneasiness, instead she went on.

“But Renegade still has a heart. Do you want to know what I think?” she smoked again from her cigarette before pausing a little.

“I think Grayson feels some kind of responsibility towards you,” she continued, “even though he doesn’t want to admit it. You are, after all, the boy wearing his uniform. His successor. He might be thinking that if  _ someone _ in this world has the right to harm his successor - the one who inherited his legacy - then it could only be himself. That had to be why Renegade went to Slade and fought with him after the old man came to visit you that day.”

Jason suddenly lost any speech he might have had. His eyes widened. What Tara was saying was news to him.

Tara seemed to notice his surprise.

“Oh?” She placed the cigarette near her lips but didn’t smoke it right away, instead, she looked at him with amazement. The expression she had on her face made Jason want to pick a fight with her. “You didn’t know about this, huh?”

“Shut up,” Jason said. He didn’t know what else to say apart from this.

“You know, it's not really anything new,” Terra said, “that he dares to quarrel with Deathstroke like this. He’s used to it. You have to know that you are not the first or only ‘gift’ that Slade had given to Renegade. He built Defiance and gifted it to Dick because he knew that the revenge he was after needed to be performed by a team, and after the deed was done, he knew that Dick also needed a group to replace the Titans as his new family. This is the reason why we’re all here. Dick is like the spoiled child who always gets whatever he wants. I regard Defiance as my only home, my only salvation, but to Deathstroke, we are nothing but an afterthought - a decoration to Renegade’s gold. We should all thank him for giving us everything we have right now. Our team - our family - nothing, if not for Renegade in the middle of it.”

“What do you really want?” Jason held his breath, suddenly nervous. “You didn’t just come here to chat with me, did you?”

“That’s right,” Tara extinguished her cigarette butt on the wall, “a warning.”

Then she looked straight at him, her dangerous light blue eyes staring needles at him through the darkness, and Jason swallowed.

“You need to know that we met the Teen Titans during our last mission.”

Jason calmed himself and said, “I know.”

“They are like annoying little rats, disrupting our mission time and time again,” Tara replied. The chatty nature of her tone had disappeared completely by now, replaced by a threatening sense of aggression. “I told him many times over, just kill them all. It’ll make it so much easier for us in the future. But Dick refused, and Deathstroke listened to all his wishes, letting him have his way every time. I tried to tell Slade, again and again, that nothing good can come out of it. Not counting others, if it was up to me I’d never have let that Raven bitch live. The witch knew too much and she should have died a long time ago.”

At this, Jason's upper lip pulled up into a growl. But Tara was indifferent. She looked straight at him, her voice low, the dangerous tone sounding visceral coming out of this petite girl’s lips.

“So, little bird, listen now, because sooner or later someone will tell you this:” Tara started to approach him, slowly invading into his personal space. In his horror, Jason hid his freed hands under the cover to avoid being discovered. However, Tara simply stopped a few feet in front of him and leaned forward, reaching out her slender index finger and pointing at him with manicured nails. She stared at him coldly, “Know what your job is. Your responsibility is to satisfy him, make it so he could complete his missions with more proficiency - and, most importantly - keep Slade satisfied, so that this team can be maintained, as it’s meant to be. Your most important task is to steer Grayson away from the Teen Titans and his past. You are everything that connects him to his past self, so all in all, you are the key to all of this. Keep Dick’s focus on his current family, and not his old ones.”

Her threat was not stated, but the look in Tara's eyes and the sound of her tone were enough to convey to him all that she wanted to say, and Jason had no doubt that there was no joke in her words.

Jason swallowed again, but his pride dictated that he refuse to look away. Tara straightened up, her silk robe making a smooth friction-induced sound. She lifted her chin slightly and looked at the boy scornfully, and that was when Jason knew exactly how dangerous the delicate and petite girl in front of him was. She could crush Jason to death in an instant if she wished to, or suffocate him by burying him alive. Tara’s threat was nothing but sincere.

The girl took another few seconds to allow her point to sink in before turning around and walking out of the door. It gently locked behind her, and Jason waited, still unable to resume normal breathing now that the immediate danger had passed.

He waited for a while, and after making sure that no more sound could be heard from outside the door, Jason lifted the blanket completely before removing the cuffs on his wrist to get off of the bed, still feeling frightened.

Tara and the rest of them could all keep on immersing themselves in this horrific team dynamic. Keep chasing after Renegade’s glory like flies towards waste, at the same time rejoicing in everything they had only because of Dick. But it all had fucking nothing to do with Jason. He’s leaving this hellhole.

“I’m not playing this game with you anymore, fuckers,” he said to himself, letting the chain fall to the ground. Then, after only a short pause, he ran to the door without wasting any more time and quickly pried open the lock there as well.

Tara's short visit boosted Jason's adrenaline, gaining him more agility to do this task. By the time he finished, the boy's limbs had become as eager as tightened springs. He almost slammed the door open before rushing into the fluorescent-lit corridors.

He didn't have time to examine the hallway that had been sitting outside his cell all this time. Jason briefly noted the light tubes hanging on the walls and the gears that kept functioning in the open ceiling above, then his legs almost moved by themselves, leading him to run in the direction Joey pointed to him.

The corridor was empty, broad, and occasionally along the concrete walls were doors looking not dissimilar to the one to his cell, almost all shut and locked. Jason couldn’t help but think whether there were still other prisoners in here somewhere, whether this place was used as Deathstroke’s private prison, and the idea frightened Jason. If he’s lucky enough to make it out, he must swear to convince Bruce to let him investigate it further, find out whether it’s necessary to return and liberate more captives.

But now, his most immediate task was to make sure he could get himself out relatively unscathed. He kept running through the long and complicated hallways following Joe's instructions, picking the most likely passage every time he encountered a forking in the building. His rubber soles made a soft, dull sound on the floor, and the sounds made by the gears above caused Jason's heart to thump with anxiety. He knew that with every passing second it became more and more likely for his captors to realize that he was missing.

Corner, long hallway, another corner, then diverging halls. Luck finally struck at about the fifth split Jason encountered. At the end of the long corridor, directly in front of him, was stairs to the ground level that Joey had told him before. On the right was an industrial elevator, and on the left, a staircase, made entirely out of metal. Both were designed to be completely lacking in any walls, their inner constructs exposed, their metal frames tinted orange by the basement’s incandescent light bulbs.

Jason, who remembered every piece of advice that Joey had given him, immediately went with the stairwell without hesitation. By the time he started climbing Jason was already rather breathless. He blamed this on the fact that his imprisonment had caused a halt in his routine training. The metal staircase kept creaking under the trampling of his canvas shoes, and it wasn’t long before Jason saw the exit. It didn't even take him climbing the entirety of the two floors to see it.

It was a simple double door painted in dark green, a push bar as its handle. The night sky was visible through the tiny window, almost pitch black from this angle, the glass reflecting the gears and steel bars inside. Jason almost burst into tears at the sight of this, the excessive excitement almost made him stop on his tracks.

But, with him finally being able to stretch his muscles, the adrenaline rush only became stronger as the minutes went on. Jason couldn’t make himself stop if he tried. He reached his arms forward, pushing open the double door, almost like embracing his near-freedom.

He would be free. Just a bit more distance. Jason knew that after these torturous past few days he was finally able to regain his freedom, and he absolutely could not wait. He could almost taste it with the tip of his tongue.

The door presented a little bit of resistance under his palms, but they gave fairly easily. Jason felt the weight under his hands. The coldness of the door made him tremble with excitement as he continued to push forward, shoving it open.

As the door opened, Jason stepped out - and was greeted by a current of cold wind.

It's cold. Too cold.

Jason stayed on the concrete stairs and listened to the crunch coming from under his feet. His eyes widened as he looked around.

Surrounded by a forest, deciduous and conifer trees cohabited the region. In the dark of the night, they appeared dark green with a wet sheen to them. Endless trees, no borders in sight, there was no sign of the existence of civilization, only a distant range of mountains beyond.

And the sound that came from under his feet was from snow. Or rather, half-melted slush, coloring the grassy field in front of him a dirty brown-white. It was also then when Jason started to notice the strong wind penetrating his thin short-sleeved shirt with its coldness, making his body shiver.

Jump City was sunny and warm on the day he was taken. There were cool breezes, but it certainly wasn’t enough to make anyone shiver in their single shirt. This was no longer Jump City.

Then a snowflake fell on Jason's nose…No, it's no snowflake. It was more like half-melted ice, cold icy slush that was like rain but ten times worse. It began to rain, and it had to be the worst time too.

Shit. Jason quietly swore to himself. Where on earth did they fucking take him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are all very appreciated!


	7. The Hunt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Start the car,” Dick reinstated his order. In his horror, Jason recognized a tinge of _interest_ in his tone. “Let's start _hunting.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took so freaking long and I'm sorry! I was so busy working on BJTW that I didn't have time to fully dedicate to this main fic until recently. But now that that's over hopefully I can have a little more time I could spend on this.
> 
> WARNING: NSFW art at the end, underage and non-con (dub-con?), hypothermia, and the starting signs of Stockholm syndrome.

Jason shivered in the rain.

Jump City stood on the southern front of the west coast. The weather should be warm all year round... coats were never a necessary accessory even on the coldest of days; and snow was something that simply didn’t happen in that part of the world. However, with his capture happening around mid-November and with most places in the northern hemisphere stepping into winter months, snow and hail were both likely obstacles he should’ve expected. How could he miss a detail like this?

This was one of the possibilities that Jason—someone who had lived in goddamn  _ Gotham _ his entire life—should have predicted. He should have considered this. So why then did he make his daring escape without thinking of a fucking backup plan?

_ Because you make a bad Robin, lacking in even the most basic of Robin’s skills and qualifications. Having said that, how did Bruce choose you anyway? _ Jason shut his eyes, eyelashes quickly soaked by the rain, but then he quickly shook his head to drive out Dick's voice.

_ This doesn’t mark your failure—you know this. It’s the quality of knowing when and how to make accommodations for unforeseen obstacles that truly makes Robin, so, stay calm and think. You can do this. _ He successfully settled his breath, but it was a lot harder to calm his frantic heartbeat. Jason then forced his eyes open again.

He began looking around, persuading himself to do his best to ignore the cold winds and icy rain as he stood in the midst of them, shivering as he assessed his situation. It took him half a minute to get used to seeing in the dark, and as he had no flashlight to help him, Jason had to rely on the warm light pouring from the small window to make out the scenery.

The grassy field in front of him was about a dozen yards in width, beyond which was a dense forest, looking pitch black with no artificial light illuminating it. A forest untouched by human civilization with no paths that could lead him through, none except a trail seen on his left, created by the repeated crawling of a jeep, if the wheel marks were any indication. Using it to guide his way through the forest was technically an option, but it would make tracking him down a piece of cake for his captors. Yet the weather really wasn’t the most ideal for him to try and navigate through the dark. It’s a great way to get lost in the forest.-

He shouldn't do it. It was a crazy idea. Unless... he didn't have to? An idea suddenly surfaced, and Jason started to survey the building behind him.

The—base?—looked more like a fortress than anything. With half of it above-ground, its top levels weren’t high, merely a dome made out of concrete that’s at most two stories tall. There were a few windows, and most of the building’s volume was buried underneath, making it difficult to tell how big its inner constructs were. He turned back to study the track of the jeep's wheels, tracing it to the back of the building as it bypassed the side of the base.

Jason shook a little, hugging his arms around himself and shaking his head to get some of the water out of his hair. He started to walk down the stairs, following the tracks.

He would find Defiance’s means of transportation. Their vehicles would certainly have built-in communication devices, and after a bit of fine-tuning Jason should be able to contact Bruce or the Titans directly for backup. However, a car was also more likely to be equipped with tracking signals, increasing the likelihood of his captors finding him. Being in Jason’s current predicament though, he believed it’s a risk worth taking—especially when his only other option was to enter the wilderness without backup, possibly getting lost, then the situation would evolve into an even worse one as hypothermia started to set in, adding risk to his survival.

So Jason followed the wheel tracks. Placing his hands on the rough surface of the fortress walls, he used it to guide himself through the dark. It was already difficult to make out anything with his eyes even when he’s standing so close to the building. He couldn't imagine how he’d possibly find his way through the forest.

All Jason’s senses were more fine-tuned in the dark, and as soon as his sensitive hearing picked up a few small noises that didn’t belong to the rain, he immediately stopped on his tracks.

There were two sets of footsteps in the distance, clothing rustling as the pair walked. Its abruptness caused Jason’s breaths to catch. He involuntarily arched his body up to hide better behind the walls, his eyes widening to sneak a glance at the source of the sound. The beams of flashlights were glaring, Jason had to narrow his eyes, heart beating in his ears.

The beams swiped slowly from left to right, as if searching through the dark. From time to time it pointed back to the base, but it always flashed back to the border of the forest, shining through the shadowy leaves, looking for something.

“Do you see him?” The voice belonged to Dick, Jason’s abuser for his days in captivity, sounding chillingly calm. 

Jason's heart was beating so loud that his head was devoid of thoughts. He shut his eyes, petrified with fear, shoulders trembling weakly.

The person walking beside Dick did not answer, judging from the sound of friction, they seemed to have raised one hand and pointed at something.

“Hold on,” Dick suddenly piped up. The man's movements came to a stop, and the stillness that followed was frightening. Jason didn't dare to so much as breathe, almost whimpering like some wounded animal.

His predecessor listened for a long time like a prancing predator. When he finally spoke again, the sound that pierced the silence made Jason shudder as if he was suddenly tased.

“Over there,” Dick said.

Jason then heard the sound of clothes shuffling and soles on the ground as the man turned to walk farther away. He tightened his muscles, daring not to stick his head out for a look until he’d heard the sounds passing far enough away from him.

Jason saw the beam of the flashlight retreat, finally disappearing at the turn, his breaths fixated in his throat. The fear that came from being so close to the unwanted encounter made him tremble and hyperventilate until Jason felt dizzy, almost couldn’t keep his stance. Panic and anxiousness consumed him, as vivid images depicting his recapture, returning to the cell, and being punished for his escape flashed in his head. The conjectures made up by his fear-addled mind flushed his brain of all reason.

_ Calm down, Jason Todd, _ he told himself.  _ They are gone now, stop being such a scaredy-cat. If you don’t act now, you’ll probably never get another chance. _

Regardless of how tension and fear made him slow and timid; how terrifying it was to know his captors were nearby, Jason tried not to let these thoughts control him. So he forced his body to start moving again, continued walking with hands pressed on the wall, and stepping carefully as he followed the trail of wheel tracks further. He had to fumble in the darkness, but fortunately, Jason didn't have to fumble for long before he saw a jeep parked in a clearing just around the corner.

He ran towards the silver vehicle as if his life depended on it.

This was familiar territory for him. Jason Todd had known how to hijack the cars of gangs and criminals long before he tried to steal the tires off of the Batmobile. Jason gave the car door a quick look-over, deciding that it wouldn’t be hard to pry it open with the tools he had, but whether it would set off the car’s alarm was a gamble for him. Jason contemplated for a moment, gritting his teeth, he decided to take his chances.

He was lucky no alarm sounded when he inserted the lock-pick into the keyhole and started to fumble with it. After he got the door open, Jason let out a breath that he’d been holding, only allowing himself a second to calm his nerves before immediately opening the door to climb over the high floor panel and into the driver’s seat, preparing to hotwire his way out of this mess with all the street knowledge he gained from his pre-Robin days.

This next step was also a familiar area of Jason’s. From opening the kick panel right under the steering wheel to locating all the correct wires, to expertly reconnecting them; every single thing he did was with skill and expertise, but when he finally jumped the wires the car did not come to life as he’d hoped.

Jason froze for a moment, thinking he had done something wrong. He double-checked all the modules and tried again, but the result was the same. The car gave no response to his attempts.

“Damn it!” he swore, smashing his fist onto the panel.

It couldn’t end like this. He could not have acted out his plan to this point only to stuck on this one small detail. All the efforts he went through, it couldn’t just have meant to come to this. He had to keep trying, calm himself and re-check all his steps, there must've been something he overlooked-

He wasn’t given a chance to complete that thought. Footsteps, belonging to two individuals from the sound of it, accompanied by the sound of shuffling clothes, approached him through the rain. Jason’s breath was caught in his throat, and his body froze in fear.

He shouldn’t stay where he was. Unless he wanted to go back into his cell so soon.

Jason couldn't think of anything. When he jumped out of the car—not even bothering with the car door—and ran with his fastest speed to hide in the bushes circling the grass field, he was allowing his automatic survival instincts to take control over his body, the steps he was taking nothing but a mechanical beat. Jason quickly burrowed into the nearest woods, hiding behind a large tree, his torso tightly clinging to the trunk, watching as the beams from the flashlights approached from the distance, all the while he shivered violently, whether it’s caused by fear or the coldness of the wind he didn’t know.

The sound of two pairs of feet, wearing rain boots, was stepping on wet grass, rattling as their soles crushed the melting slush. Jason could barely hear their conversation, the rain making it rather difficult to make out words coming from such a far distance. But one thing he could be sure of. One of the voices undoubtedly belonged to Renegade, while the other was female. When she finally appeared out of the corner, her head of silvery hair and an eyepatch on her left eye made identifying her easy.

Rose was wearing a black raincoat and holding a flashlight, walking briskly steps. From time to time she’d deliberately set foot on some scattered blob of melting snow on the grass and crush them under her foot. And behind her there came Dick, a similar raincoat pulled over to cover his long hair.

“You got lucky during training,” the man said to the girl, switching the hand that held the flashlight as he began to pull the car keys out of his pocket. “Don’t even think about showing off to your dad yet. I’m not thrilled about the prospect of the old man leering at me for being a lousy mentor.”

The bounce in Rose's steps slowed at that. Even from this distance, Jason could see her frown of indignance.

Then the girl turned around and said something back to Dick, but Jason couldn’t hear it.

He then heard Dick letting out a breath, sounding not unlike a  _ laugh. _ The corner of his mouth raised, his face relaxed. Jason couldn’t see the slightest hint that he was remotely bothered by his prisoner’s supposed escape.

For some reason, this knowledge made Jason angrier than ever. His shoulders started to tremble, tears of shame and indignation twirling in his eyes.

Jason was an entertainment and not something irreplaceable. This revelation should not have affected him so much. But now he had finally seen the signs of how much his suffering was worth to his captor, and Jason bit into his lower lip to stifle his whines of righteous indignation and hurt, his fingers almost jabbing into the trunk of the tree. So affected by his own emotions, Jason almost missed the way the two villains’ conversation suddenly stopped.

Dick had somehow walked past Rose. With his car key in hand, he was about to open the jeep before he suddenly stopped a few yards away from it. Dick shone his flashlight at the cracked door. His unfinished sentence faded from his tongue, and the sudden stillness made Jason terrified only a few moments after the fact.

“Oh, busted,” Rose said. Her tone was relaxed, sounding not unlike that she was just rubbing it in.

Dick didn’t try to scold her for it, however. In fact, he didn't say anything at all. He just quietly walked up to the car door and pushed it open with his hand, so that Rose too could see the crime scene, then, tilting his head and with his hands on his hips, he stared down at it.

Jason didn’t dare to move or even to breathe, his pupils were twitching with fear.

Rose approached from behind and whistled. Jason then heard Dick hum. He squatted down, checking the kick panel that Jason had cracked open, pulling at the wires.

“-Clever rat,” Dick said, “really got some guts, doesn’t he?”

“It looks like your successor had outsmarted you, chief,” Ross said cheerily.

“He didn't,” Dick replied grimly, “the car is still here. The special kill switches Slade has in his vehicles are not that easy to crack, even for the Bat’s brat. He never had a chance of driving this."

After he finished, Dick tossed the key into the air. It flipped and landed in his hand again, jingling. Dick stretched out his arm towards Rose, handing her the key.

“Here, go start the car,” he ordered, not even looking at her.

“Don't even think about it,” Rose said, arms crossed over her chest. “You're not the boss of me.”

“If you have complaints, kid, then go ahead and report me to your dad.”

“Do you know how much of an asshole you are, Grayson?”

Jason eventually couldn't hold back his distressed gasp. He quickly covered his mouth, forcing back a scream. Jason's body was trembling, helplessly whimpering almost like an animal, so he reinforced his grip over his lips until his knuckles turned white. 

Both the shuffling and the talking stopped, Renegade stayed quiet as if listening to the movements behind him. Jason was holding his breath.

For a moment, Renegade stood still with his back towards the forest. Then he suddenly turned around, his flashlight shining directly at where the escapee was hiding.

In his horror, Jason bit his lip so hard that it bled. He turned and fled before he knew it, away from his prison and deeper into the forest. The taste of metal in his mouth was disgusting. Jason ran with his basic survival instincts prompting him deeper into the coverage of the woods, vaguely aware of the beam of flashlight following him.

Dick didn't shout after him, nor did he immediately pursue him. Instead, Jason heard jingling sounds as the chain of keys were thrown at Rose.

“Start the car,” Dick reinstated his order. In his horror, Jason recognized a tinge of  _ interest  _ in his tone. “Let's start  _ hunting. _ ”

Jason shut his eyes as he ran and listened to Rose's excited cry of  _ Alright! Road trip! _ and the sound of the engine starting up behind him, his feet loudly smacking the wet woodland ground. Footsteps clattering, he scuttled into the darkness of the forest where he was trying so hard not to enter only moments before.

Jason panted roughly, his body trembling, and his heartbeat was deafeningly loud. His canvas sneakers were quickly wetted by the melting slush, and as he went deeper into the forest, that tiny bit of light from the base also dissipated, and Jason was swallowed by his almost pitch-black surroundings. He kept bumping into trunks, stumbling over roots of trees, and his bare arms were quickly cut by sharp branches. He was rapidly soaked from head to toe by the falling rain, his body trembling in the wind, and his bare knees were shaking so much that it could barely hold his weight.

Not even two minutes had passed since Jason’s escape, he was fully aware of how unwise it was to leave without any supplies or backup. Nothing could be worse than his current situation. It’s not so much as fleeing as stumbling helplessly in complete darkness. Jason realized that every step he took could end up with a misstep, maybe tripped by roots that could make him fall on his head, or even set foot over the ledge of a cliff, resulting in him crashing to his death. In addition to this, his limbs were numb from the cold, the freezing evening winds were easily penetrating his soaked clothes, making him shake non-stop.

It didn't take long before Jason heard the sound of a jeep coming up behind him, wheels making wet sounds as they crawled through the slushy snow. Jason quickly hid himself behind a tree. He did it just in time, barely avoiding the dazzling headlights of the car as it approached from a distance, the beams sweeping across the tree he was hiding behind.

Jason hid, trembling with both cold and fear, too shocked to extend his head out even just a little to peek at the passengers and to confirm whether or not Dick was shining a flashlight into the woods in his attempt to find him. The only thing he could rely on was their sound. The car drove slowly, almost crawling less than ten yards away from the very tree he was hiding behind. He could hear the clatter of rain and snow hitting the metal hood of the car and the rolling tires. The cracking sounds when it crawled over branches and dirt. These mixed notes overpowered anything Rose might be saying to Dick or vice versa, nothing but the revolving tires and a running engine. Jason held his breath, starting to count from one to ten before repeating it backward in his head in an attempt to calm himself, listening to the sound of the jeep slowly pass by and rolling into the distance.

He waited until he couldn’t hear the car anymore, surprisingly lucky with how thoroughly he evaded inspection. Just in case though, Jason waited for a bit longer before even daring to move. He probed out, confirming that he could hardly see the taillights, before finally walking out of his hiding place as quietly as he could. With his heart still palpitating, Jason decided that instead of running in a frenzy as he did before, he’d take more caution in where he walked. In the dark, Jason groped at random tree branches and moved forward, careful with every step, his body trembling furiously in the rain and wind. Taking two steps forward, he turned back to inspect the way from which he came. The dim light of the base could still be seen through the intersecting branches, and though they were weak and far—nothing but small dots of lights—it was enough to provide him with a way back in case he second-guessed himself. A chance to abort the mission.

Jason was full-on shivering now, teeth clattering non-stop, and his shirt and shorts had both been thoroughly soaked and were sticking to his body, making him lose his body heat at an alarming rate.

Dick had given him a shot of sedative before Jason was brought here, and he didn’t wake up until he was already in a cell. As a result, Jason didn't even know how far this place was from Jump City and where it could be located. He may be on the other side of the earth. Even if he could get his hands on some communication device, his remote location could mean that he was out of range from Bruce and the others. There might not be anyone on the other side of the line when and if he managed to call.

Jason tightly wrapped his arms around himself and sniffed. This wasn’t a fair fight. It never was. They didn't give him the tiniest chance for success when they did this to him. He was destined to fail, destined to stay with Renegade and Deathstroke as long as they wanted.

He could still turn back. He should, in fact. Everything that Robin had learned from Batman was warning him that it wasn’t a good idea to keep up this plan of his. Not when the odds were so against him. He’d get lost in the woods without any basic supplies or tools for survival, he’d find himself collapsed somewhere where no one could ever find him. He’d get hypothermia from not properly equipped for weathers like this. He wasn’t aware where the nearest town or highway could be. He might never find help. Or worse, he might find himself tumbling down a hill, unable to find his footing in the dark. Imagine Robin dying not in the hands of a rogue but from a careless fall from a hill, how pathetic would that be? Jason wasn’t even sure which would be worse. At least he didn't have to listen to Dick leering at him that way. Jason didn’t know if he could handle Renegade scoffing at his efforts if he ever returned to his prison:  _ What a failure of a Robin you are, couldn’t even do this simple thing. You should stop tainting my legacy! _

Everything Bruce had taught him warned against this. All his training told him that he should analyze the situation calmly and make the most reasonable choice. Whatever the best option was, recklessly going into the forest by himself was not it. Deep down, Jason knew this. He was Robin after all-

-then, why was he picking up his pace instead, allowing his canvas shoes to be soaked by the rain and snow in mere seconds as his feet pounded on the ground, soaked from head to toe as he ran farther away from the base? Jason wasn’t the calmest person when it came to situations like this. It was one of his failings to lead with his heart instead of with his brain, the temptation of letting his feelings overpower his logical judgments. Bruce reprimanded him for it many times before. Jason was more than aware of his weaknesses, just like how he was aware that they could kill him one day, and now it seemed that one day might arrive even sooner than expected. Yet, despite everything, Jason just didn’t want to go back. He would never be a captive again. As he ran deeper into the forest, pushing his legs towards the upper limits of their speed, that was the only thing he could think of. 

Minutes passed, then hours.

The cold made Jason’s body numb all over and he became more reckless as time went on. He became careless with his inability to see in the dark, no longer paying attention or even caring about the obstacles underfoot that might trip him. Jason began to lose feeling in his limbs, his reasons telling him that this wasn’t a good sign. But at this point, he couldn’t find enough in him to gather his reasons, as if his mind was hollowed out and filled with gum.

As the night deepened it also became colder. The slush started to turn into real snowflakes, and the sound of raindrops gradually became thinner and more widespread. His soaked clothes tightly clutched onto his skin as they picked up both weight and rigidity, likely would freeze solid given more time.

But he continued to walk, if prompted by nothing more than a primitive survival instinct.

Jason slowed down, not entirely due to tiredness. He rested his hand on the tree trunk to steady himself, feeling drowsy as if his body was floating in midair. His heartbeat slowed, and as he lifted his hand to support his wobbly head he found it not easy, his fingers kept brushing past the skin of his forehead. The cold wind was piercing through his frozen clothes and both his lips and fingertips were trembling. To make it worse, there was also an excessive fatigue that had started to seize him, making it difficult to lift his foot off the ground. He could vaguely feel the wet clothes sticking to his body, but the feeling of the contact felt distant.

Jason finally stopped, supporting himself with the trunk of a nearby tree. A thought suddenly came to him. Could his captors still be looking for him after so long? Or were they tired of this pathetic chase a long time ago, already returning to the warmth of their fortress and leaving Jason by his lonesome in the forest... he was a novelty, a curiosity for their entertainment, how would he know that he was even worth it for Dick and the others to waste their precious sleep on trying to find him? What about the others then? Would the Titans have continued to look for him if it was up to them? Would Bruce?

By the time he heard the crawling sound of a jeep’s engine and wheels, approaching him from far away just like before, Jason had no clue on how long it had been since his escape. What made this time different, though, was that the car did not drive past him, instead it stopped abruptly after crawling for a bit. The car stopped a short distance away while the engine kept on running. Should he keep going? Jason thought for a while and decided that the answer was affirmative. So he forced himself to move again, his body trembling in the cold.

The door clicked open behind him. Someone walked out of it. Feet clad in rainboots stepped on the new layer of snow, the soles sounding off loud squelches as the person approached him, snow squeezing under his feet. 

Jason tried to take a step forward again, but his feet were weak and his trembling knees suddenly gave out from under him. He fell on the snow with his useless limbs giving in like a broken puppet. Jason fell into the snow on one side of his face. The cold gave his cheek a tingly feeling, spreading to his bare arms and legs.

What happened next was a blur. Jason felt he might have fallen asleep, but when he opened his eyes and saw a pair of boots stopped in front of him, he suspected that he might have only closed his eyes for a few seconds. His brow furrowed slightly, trying to remember who it was or why he was here. But the only thing that came to mind was an increasing need to get away. When he was abruptly scooped up from the snow and held tightly to the span of a chest, the need only grew stronger with it. Somehow, Jason knew this was against everything he was trying to achieve, being held in these arms meant the mission failed, and wherever he would be taken after this was where his nightmares lie. But Jason couldn’t remember the reason for these thoughts, and how could he refuse the warmth seeping into him from the chest he was resting against? He hunched his shoulders, though his trembling hadn’t stopped, he was feeling at least a little bit warmer.

“Don't fall asleep,” a voice said above him. Magnetic, with a unique charm, the commanding tone sounded almost exactly as how Robin used to give orders to the Titans; yet there was also a hint of danger there, frightening him.

Then he was being carried somewhere. Jason’s body was suspended, his feet hanging in the air. Jason whimpered, trying to open his eyes and persuade himself to push away the one holding him. His eyelids only felt heavier the more he tried, and it became harder for him to stay awake as the seconds passed. 

A burst of heat hit, then the artificial smell and air freshener from inside the car. The door was already open and Jason was placed on the back seat. He tried to curl up in the warmth as soon as he felt the cushion of the seat beneath him. Behind him, the man also climbed in, and a warm blanket was placed over him.

The door closed behind them. The other person sat down next to him, the seat dipping with his weight. One arm wrapped itself around Jason, warming him with the man’s body. Jason couldn't help but whimper again.

“Drive,” the man said to the driver. The voice was familiar. But Jason had a hard time recalling who he’d heard it from.

The person in the driver’s seat stopped to turn and stare into the back seat. The girl released a grunt at the order. But she didn’t complain. She turned back to pull at the lever and turn the car around.

Almost no one spoke during their way back. Only the radio played whichever vague music that was popular right now, the sound low, almost like a background noise, making Jason more sleepy than ever.

“Hey,” the man next to him suddenly said, the abrupt words sounded a little forceful, and Jason was immediately aware of the warmth of the arms holding him again. He whined. The other’s hand began to rub back and force on his upper arm, warming him up with the contact and friction. The man's tone soon softened, so gentle that it sounded unnatural. “Listen to me. Focus on my voice.”

Jason snorted. There were a lot of things he wanted to say, but when he opened his mouth they all turned into incomprehensible moans and groans. How could he even think of refusing the order? The voice was so beautiful, even if it was making his hair stand on end, it was his single lifeline in the cold darkness. Even if everything else disappeared, Jason couldn’t let it go.

The car bumped and turned sharply in the winding woodland, making Jason slide back-and-forth in the backseat, but the man beside him hugged him close and fixed him in place with his arm. The car drove slowly, often bumped up by the uneven forest floor. It easily drove through the complex terrain until Jason could tell from the sudden evenness that they were back to the open lawn where he first started.

The driver pulled the lever and loudly loosened the hold of her foot on the brake. Jason heard the engine die as the key was pulled out.

The driver's door opened first. Dick took some time to collect Jason's blanket-wrapped body into his arms before he opened the door from the back seat. 

“Go tell your brother to go cook something warm,” Dick said to the driver, closing the door with his foot.

Rose looked back. Jason couldn't see her face, but from her slight pause, he could just imagine the way her eyebrow must have raised from this.

“Chicken soup again? Or cocoa?”

“Either is fine, as long as it's something warm,” Dick said, walking with Jason in his arms. Rose held the front door for them, and even the sudden oncoming heating from the interior of the building couldn't make Jason's shivering body feel any better.

“I'll go and tell him,” Rose said after closing the door, kicking off her dirty boots and changing into indoor canvas shoes before she ran upstairs. 

Dick didn't follow her. Instead, he stepped onto a flight of stairs with Jason in his arms, walking into the basement.

There was something different about this place. The floor underneath Dick’s feet sounded like wood and there weren’t any gear noises in the ceiling. The warmth of the room also felt different from the small cement cell that imprisoned him in the past few days. Jason lifted his head from Dick’s shoulder and looked around with difficulty, blinking as he surveyed the bright and cozy basement in front of him, occupied by a low and spacious sofa and a TV, a guitar sitting propped up on a wooden chair at the corner. On the coffee table there sat a pot and a couple of mugs of unfinished coffee and an open bag of potato chips, looking strangely homey. Dick had Jason securely locked in his arms as he stepped into a dim and narrow walkway, keys clinking as the man took them out and inserted one into a keyhole. The wooden door creaked open, and as soon as Dick's hand flew up to flip on the switch, the entire room was bathed in a wash of orange light, assaulting Jason’s eyes and making him grunt in discomfort.

“Wake up, sleepyhead,” his predecessor said, though the words were teasing in nature, his tone was stone cold, a dangerous grimness hidden beneath the surface.

Jason blinked his eyes open, trying to keep awake. This room looked to be a little more spacious than the cell that imprisoned him before, with a low queen-size bed and a wooden door opening towards the washroom. Its walls were also made of timbre, warm wool carpets covering the wooden floor. On one side of the wall sat a low, three-seater sofa, an oval coffee table in front of it. Dick leaned over with Jason in his arms, ducking a hanging metal ring from the ceiling to settle him down onto the bed. Jason shivered again at the sudden loss of warmth, following Dick’s body heat as he retreated before he realized his actions. Jason then gave a low growl and shrank back, shrinking under the blanket, pulling it close to him as he leaned into a row of metal railings on the wall behind him.

Dick didn’t even so much as pay attention to his distress. He started to peel off Jason's soaked top, pulling the shirt off of him before taking off his shorts the same way. Jason didn’t make a scene, more than happy to remove his drenched clothes. He had only briefs underneath them, and he immediately shrank underneath the blanket after Dick was done. The act was more due to the cold than his sense of shame.

Dick turned and stepped out of the room for a little while, making shuffling noises as he rummaged through a closet outside the door, and when he came back he was carrying an electric heater in his arms. He placed it on the other side of the room and turned it on. The wires hopped to life, emitting a bright red light, exuding warmth.

Dick then stepped towards the bed again, starting to absently-mindedly remove his clothes.

He must have taken off the raincoat when he was in the car. Now Dick was only wearing a thin corduroy jacket, dark-blue in color and fashionable in cut, and under it was a gray sweater. Dick slipped the sweater off of his body, letting his long hair fall back on his bare shoulders before taking off his trousers the same way. He placed the trousers on a nearby chair until the only thing he wore was dark gray briefs. 

Jason was so entranced that he didn't even think what could be coming next. That was until Dick stepped close and grabbed the blanket from him, Jason yelped in surprise and tightened his hold on it. 

Dick didn’t pay any notice of this. He pulled at the blanket a few times until it slipped out of Jason’s grasp and got in with him. Dick settled behind Jason, trapping the boy’s trembling form between his arms. 

Jason tried to struggle a little, but he was weak from the heat loss. Dick’s body felt like a stove behind him, emitting warmth and feeling powerfully hot as it wrapped itself around his back. Jason could feel the press of the man's naked chest on the back of his neck, long hair brushing his shoulders. Dick wrapped the two of them inside the blanket, using the tented fabric as a vehicle to trap the heat of their bodies inside.

Jason kept shivering despite all that. No matter how warm the temperature around him became, it was unable to break through the coldness that chilled him to the bone.

An arm reached up, a finger gently sweeping away a strand of damp hair stuck on Jason’s forehead.

“You could've died out there,” his predecessor whispered in his ear, his voice cold and threatening, making Jason shudder all over again. “What you did was not wise. You shouldn't have done it.”

Dick’s authoritative voice made Jason feel ashamed. He buried his face deeper, trying to dodge the hand touching him, doing so either unintentionally or deliberately.

His meager attempt of evasion was not accepted. Dick calmly continued with his speech, tone harsh as ever, each and every word meant to hurt and injure, equipped with a sharp edge that cut through Jason’s armor.

“What were you thinking, making such a stupid, such an impulsive move?” Dick said. “It makes me feel ashamed, Robin, to even so much as acknowledge you as my replacement. ”

Jason couldn't hold back his sobs. He didn't answer, not only due to his quivering lower lip, but also because he didn’t know what he could possibly say to refute it.

Because, deep down, Jason knew that Dick was right. He knew full well the consequences of his actions yet he still forewent Bruce's training, acting on his impulses and made his escape without enough preparation. It was his mistakes that had led to his current dilemma.

Seemingly detecting his distress and vulnerability, Dick stopped talking and left Jason alone. He continued to warm Jason with his body, and the boy let him. He knew resisting the help wouldn't do him any good. Dick had already won.

After a bit there was a sudden sound as the handle of the door was twisted open. Dick turned his head and took the warm mug from the newcomer. Jason heard Rose’s voice when she spoke up.

“Hot cocoa,” she said, “Joey said you’ll have to wait longer for the soup.”

Having said that, Rose left, shutting the door behind her. There was a slight pause before she walked out, and Jason was awfully aware of her meaningful gaze when she quietly studied him for a few seconds. Dick didn't hand him the mug immediately, placing it on the night table first. Jason had his head hidden beneath the blanket. He wasn’t aware of Dick’s actions as he turned around, rummaging through the nightstand before retrieving something that sounded like clinking metals. He wasn’t even aware when Dick clamped a ring of velvet-lined metal around his neck, and by the time he realized the collar had already locked itself shut.

Jason made a distressed yelp. When he was finally pulling at the collar it was firmly locked, and Dick took advantage of the few seconds he was distracted to close another pair of cuffs around his wrists, letting the long chains of both the cuffs and the collar drop onto the bed.

“No…” Jason pulled at his shackles helplessly, his fingers weak from heat loss, his voice sad as he sobbed— “No... no, please…” 

Dick forcibly pulled Jason's hands away. The warmth of the mug then touched his lips.

“Drink it,” Dick said.

Jason turned away. He bit his lip, whether due to rebelliousness or other reasons, refusing to give in as he pulled at his shackles again.

“Don't touch it,” Dick's voice was lined with a warning this time, making the hair on Jason’s neck stand up. “Drink it,  _ now.” _

Dick’s voice was full of authority. Just like how it sounded when he’d used to order the Titans. The sound itself was enough to make Jason’s spine shiver and his body go lax, and he followed his command obediently.

Jason took the cup as if bewitched, and he pressed it to his mouth, tilting it with shaky hands. Dick kept one hand on the mug to help him with it, his presence grounding. After the hours spent out in the cold, the warmth of the hot cocoa relaxed Jason, not even the slight burn when it slid down his esophagus was enough to deter him. 

Jason held the mug with both hands and quickly downed quite a bit of it. Dick retrieved his hand until after he’d made sure that Jason wouldn’t spill. He then picked up the group of chains from the sheet and fixed them on the railing with a small lock. This time he hooked the lock closer to Jason’s cuffs, only allowing him enough space to lie down and sit up on the bed. He was locked so close to the wall that he wouldn't even get off of the bed.

Jason watched as he did this, seeing how Dick was lifting Jason’s arms and checking if the cuffs were secure. He focused on how the former Robin fumbled with the restraints. It was such a familiar sight...

_...Like Jason had seen it somewhere before... _

_...Jason had seen the way Robin used to fix handcuffs on Batman’s training dummies. From quite some time ago. _

_ As Batman’s new partner, Jason used to watch the recorded training sessions over and over in the Batcave. He studied how his predecessor achieved his most difficult maneuvers; his skillful backflips and his complex combat forms. Dick Grayson’s every jump, every punch, and every weapon that he wielded (other than the ones Bruce wanted him to use—bo staffs, Birdarangs—Dick also had an interest towards katana swords), all done with perfection and without flaws. It was a pedestal that Jason never had a chance of living up to. _

_ But in the end, what attracted Jason most and had him replay over and over again, were the recordings of sessions where Dick practiced subduing techniques. The restraint lessons for tying up criminals. Handcuffs, nylon zip ties, ropes— _

_ —How Dick used to quickly place the handcuffs around the wrists of the training dummies, and how he effectively tied the imaginary thug’s hands and feet with zip ties he had in his belt, doing so in an amazingly short amount of time. But ropes were still Jason's favorite. Those complicated knots Robin fastened to the fake enemies’ hands and feet, effectively trapping them. _

_ The truth was, ropes were one of the least practical tools for their purpose—the most bulky to carry around and too time-consuming to use them effectively—it had only been useful in special cases; but Jason liked seeing the way Dick skillfully fumbled with them, watching over and over again as the rope looped around the dummy’s body and strained against its limbs. _

_ Jason replayed those training records over and over again, couldn’t help himself from doing so, and couldn’t help but imagine how it would feel if the ropes were straining against his body. He hid in his room and imagined that it was his predecessor wrapping them onto him, tightly binding him while praising him how good and  _ obedient _ he was using that magnetic voice of his. Jason would then palm himself through his pants, fingers crawling towards his hole reluctantly as he pictured Dick in his mind’s eye. _

_ Even as he was held prisoner, Jason paid attention to every habitual movement and every subtle gesture of Dick’s. Those broken and pixelated images were all inexplicably returning to him as he sat between the arms of the man who had imprisoned and violated him. From the way the knuckles of Renegade’s index finger would gently rub his nose when he was thinking, to the way his lip would slide slightly sideways when he spoke. They were all familiar to Jason. Images that Jason had once seen in videos of the former Robin, either from the surveillance of the Batcave or Titans tower. Both were real. Both were  _ Dick Grayson.

_ To Jason’s satisfaction, the Titans were more than happy to show him the videos that they had taken while Dick was around—an anniversary celebration held for Tara’s time on the team, Raven’s birthday party after the defeat of Trigon—the former Robin who had intrigued Jason beyond words. How Dick got along with his teammates, how he fulfilled his role both as a leader and as a friend. How he used to tease Beast Boy; how he used to reassure Tara and helped her through her self-doubt... how he used to awkwardly display the affection he had towards the girl he loved. _

_ Robin abandoned his golden boy facade immediately after leaving Batman to find his own team. He started to gel his hair and attract other misfits like him with his cool-guy attitude. But that wasn’t his only charm. Even then Dick had a unique magnetism when he spoke, his personality filled with charisma, attracting teammates and strangers alike. Perhaps that was why none of the Titans had any complaints about his leadership—perhaps that was why even after five years had passed since his disappearance they still refused to accept another Robin in his place.  _

_ And how was someone as insignificant as Jason to question their decision? He had seen how happy Robin had made them in those videos, had seen how he smiled and bowed his head like a knight when he let Starfire place the Tamaranian Blorthog necklace on him, how he’d say something cooly that made her laugh shyly behind her hand—a love affair that had started from a subtle crush to the heated adoration after confirming their relationship—Jason was shone every stage of Dick’s growth as he fell in love. Every one of those moments was fascinating. _

_ The Titans told him that Dick had said he wanted to concentrate on being a hero and a vigilante, and for a long time, he didn’t respond to Kori’s admiration because of this. Their shared pining for each other lasted for a long time. Jason had watched almost every party video and noticed how his predecessors used to blush around the Tamaranian princess. That was the real Dick Grayson whom Jason saw. When he hung out with his peers like an ordinary teenager, instead of what he looked like the last time the Titans saw him: covered in blood, Kori’s body in his arms, swearing that he’d avenge her, roaring in the rain like a devil from hell. Not at all like Robin. _

_ In a twisted sense, Jason was relieved that he wasn’t there to watch the scene play out. He embedded the image of Robin smiling heartily and happily with his friends into his mind—the Robin who blushed at a sweet and young Starfire as he tried to win her affection, the Robin who had his arms around his lover’s shoulders confidently as he sang  _ Happy Birthday _ to Raven with his team—not the Dick Grayson who became a whole different person by the flames of despair and vengeance after losing the one thing he held so dear. Jason was grateful that his heart could still retain a desirable and beautiful image for his predecessor on some level. _

_ Perhaps vengeance itself wasn’t the major thing that had made Renegade who he was. Perhaps it was because Kori—the one person who could pull Dick back from the abyss when he started to slip—was gone. That was when Dick had really started to lose his way of being a hero. _

~~~

Jason frowned, tilting the cup in his hand and bottoming out. His body became warmer after he drank the hot cocoa, but there was still a coldness soaking through his flesh that he couldn't shake off. Dick took the empty cup from Jason's hand and put it on the head of the bed before he retrieved both arms into the blanket, slowly rubbing Jason's arm to get his temperature up.

Jason felt ashamed. He buried his face into the blanket, trying to keep his eyes away from his predecessor, afraid to even catch a glance of the contemplation in the man’s eyes.

“Wait here,” Dick said.

The warmth behind him suddenly left. Dick quickly lifted the blanket and got out of bed. He wrapped it around Jason, trapping the heat inside. Jason whimpered, unhappy about the loss. On instinct, he tried to chase the warmth of Dick’s skin, but only in exchange for his chains to clink when they were stretched to their limits.

Jason curled up again, clenching his teeth and forced down his whine of indignation.

“I'm going to see if the soup is ready,” Dick said, throwing garments on himself absentmindedly. Leaving the room, he didn’t even bother to close the door.

The idea didn’t give Jason any hope. There was no way for him to leave. Dick didn't say it out loud, but they both knew it full well. Even the chains around his wrists and neck were mostly for show—Dick wouldn’t let him leave and they were there as a proof of that. A reminder. To penalize him by adding more restraints and less leniency for movement, a punishment for challenging Renegade’s authority, engraving Dick’s ownership of Jason into his head.

Dick left the room for about ten minutes or so. When he returned he held a tray with a bowl of chicken soup and a spoon on it. Dick made sure the door closed securely this time. After putting the tray down onto the nightstand, he sat on a low sofa stool by the bed and picked up the bow. Dick scooped up a spoonful and blew on it, then he lifted it close to Jason’s mouth, pressing right onto his lips.

Jason wanted to turn his head away. But he didn't end up doing that. Instead, he opened his lips and allowed Dick to tilt the spoon, letting the warm and thick liquid flow into his mouth.

Joey's food was still delicious, but Jason wasn’t cheered up by it. Just thinking about Joey broke him. So Jason tried to think of nothing and ate as he temporarily let himself forget that it was his captor who was feeding him. He ate in silence, only focusing on the sensation of the warmth the soup was giving him and didn’t even dwell on the taste.

Doing so proved to be a mistake. Jason choked. Dick stopped feeding him and let him cough it out, then he wiped away the soup from his chin with a soft tissue.

“Finished the rest,” Dick softly commanded, "then you can sleep for a while."

Jason twisted his head and tried to keep his lips away. He suddenly lost his appetite. But the spoon pushed close to his mouth again harshly.

“Finish it,” Dick ordered.

Jason sobbed. He finally opened his mouth and the spoon was quickly pushed between his teeth. He whimpered through the metal as it tilted, letting the liquid flow into his esophagus.

Dick kept feeding him, spoon after spoon. He didn’t stop and put the bowl back onto the drawer until after it was empty.

Jason watched as his predecessor undressed before gently lifting the blanket and burrowing in the second time. This time Dick laid down with Jason in his arms, flipping him so he faced the wall. Between the shackles, the chains, and the restraint of his predecessor’s arms, Jason started to experience the suffocation and the hopelessness of having nowhere to run. 

What scared him the most though, was that Jason didn’t resent this feeling at all. It felt welcome when he was still shivering with mild hypothermia, wanting nothing more than to be trapped within that warmth Dick was giving him.

~~~

_ Although Jason had only officially been on a mission twice with the Teen Titans before his capture, he started to hang out with them in the Tower long before that. _

_ Titans Tower was a spacious and bright place. There was such a big screen in the living space, with large windows that overlooked the city and the piers. In addition to watching TV and engaging in video calls, the screen was also great for gaming, and Jason occasionally sat on the sofa and watched Cyborg and Beast Boy play against each other, the noises they made kept distracting Raven from her daily meditations. These were but daily occurrences for them and none were particularly worth noting. _

_ Donna wasn’t there during one of Jason’s most memorable visits—after the former Robin’s disappearance, she’d still occasionally visited, but she generally wouldn’t stay long. Despite this, there was a vacant room left for her when she did return. With his favorite member absent, Jason was bored out of his mind, sitting alone on the sofa as he watched the playable characters that Victor and Gar had selected fought each other, chin resting on his hand until Speedy walked up to him and messed up his hair. _

_ “You should have seen this place a few years ago. The air was a lot more… cheerful back then,” the archer said. “Though I wasn’t on the team full time then—only occasionally—believe me when I say this place just isn’t the same without Starfire.” _

_ Jason turned his head to look at him, raising his eyebrows with curiosity. Roy joined the team after Dick left, but the two often worked together long before that. The archer was more than qualified in claiming to have personally known Koriand'r and the former Robin before disaster had struck. _

_ Jason sat up to look at Roy, wanting to extract more information out of him. His curiosity was strong.  _

_ “Did you know them?” He asked, “I mean,  _ actually _ know them? What kind of person was he?” _

_ He worked hard to keep his voice cool and to not allow too much admiration for his predecessor show through them. But there was still a tinge of adoration in his tone. _

_ Fortunately, if Roy noticed this, he didn't show it. Instead, the redhead relaxed with his arms resting on the back of the sofa and started talking casually with Jason. _

_ “Robin—the previous one, not you—met me in a competition. Can you believe that? We tried to beat each other and take the first place. Robin won in the end, but if you ask me, it was pure luck.” _

_ Jason couldn't help but nudge closer to him, his eyes almost flashing with aspiration. _

_ “Was he...  _ good?”

_ “Oh, you can’t even imagine,” Roy changed his position and leaned with his back towards the sofa, his elbows resting there. “It was the most exhausting tournament that I’ve played!” _

_ He finished dramatically, paused, and then continued, “It’s so disappointing that he just disappeared. The Titans lost both the brain and the heart on the same day. Listen, you have to understand that even though Robin was the leader, Kori was the glue that held this team together.” _

_ “But you are still here, aren't you?” Jason couldn't help but ask, “You didn’t break up and go your separate ways, even after losing both Robin and Starfire.” _

_ “That's because Kori had been to the future once-” a voice interrupted them. Jason straightened up and looked towards Raven, who had stood up from her spot and had started to approach them. The hood of her dark blue cloak was down, revealing her shoulder-length hair. “She saw the future of the Titans, torn apart due to a time anomaly that had stolen her away for twenty years. It was a dim probability. Now, with her  _ really  _ gone, we all try our best in preventing that future from happening. Even without her and Robin, the team must go on.” _

_ “What kind of future was that?” Jason asked. _

_ “We were fighting a villain called Warp, and Kori was transported twenty years into the future after she fell into a time portal with him,” Raven replied. “The Tower had fallen into a state of disrepair in her absence. Me, Cyborg, and Beast Boy had all set foot on our own paths. None of it went happily or smoothly. No one stayed a hero in that future... all except Robin.” _

_ This piqued Jason’s interest and he perked up at the sentence. _

_ “In that future you talk about,” he forced down the admiration in his tone and said, “is he still called Robin?” _

_ Then Jason saw a subtle expression change on Raven’s face, so small that it was barely noticeable. She pursed her lips for a moment, her eyes shining a complex light, and she seemed to think for a while before she answered him in her signature hoarse voice. _

_ “No,” she said, “he called himself ‘ _ Nightwing’.”

+++

By the time Jason's temperature finally returned to normal, a few hours must have already passed. He was only able to fall asleep in Dick’s arms a few hours after that.

Jason didn't know how long he slept. He just knew that Dick was no longer in the bed when he woke up. Quite the contrary to his expectations. When he opened his eyes, he saw that his predecessor was already fully armed, wearing Renegade’s uniform and armor as he sat on a chair beside the bed, his hands overlapping each other as he stared at him, eyes unreadable.

“Dick?”

Jason slurred out. Reaching out and rubbing his eyes, he felt the chain lock up as it was stretched to its limits. Jason was suddenly fully awake from the realization of his current predicament. He blushed with indignation, biting his lower lip as he held back his distressed whine.

One hand pressed onto his wrist before another unhurriedly unlocked his cuff with a key. They finished with his handcuffs first before moving on to the collar.

“Your escape attempt wasn’t that bad,” Dick said calmly as he finished unlocking his restraints, his casual tone and action making Jason's body freeze up. “But you should know that things like that are not without consequences.” 

As his predecessor threw the shackles aside together with the chains, Jason started to notice that there was a bundle of red ropes on the nightstand. His kidnapper was picking it up.

Jason couldn't stop the heat from reaching his cheeks. Those forgotten video footage was returning to his mind, and the sinful fantasies he had of his predecessor once again overwhelmed him.

Dick slowly unwrapped the bundle of ropes, wrapping it in circles around one of his forearms. 

“It seems that respect is something you still have to learn.”

Jason's body was strained by his words, and his teeth began to clatter nervously in his mouth.

It was then when Dick suddenly grabbed his shoulder, flipping his body around harshly as he pressed him face-down onto the bed.

Jason didn’t even think of resisting until it was too late to struggle. An armored knee dug into the small of his back, firmly nailing him on the bed.

Dick used the weight of his entire body to fix Jason in place. Jason’s elbows were grabbed and forced to lock up as the sensation of soft ropes wrapped around his upper arms, effectively binding the two elbows together. 

After he was done with them, Dick moved on to the wrists. Jason’s efforts of struggle were futile. His elbows were firmly tied together and his flexibility made the bondage tighter by default. It was impossible to move with how efficient Dick was with his knots.

By the time Dick was done with his wrists Jason couldn’t move his arms for even an inch. His hands couldn’t support him and his face was pressed into the sheets with no alternative. Dick left a considerate length of rope hanging from the knots before his gloved hands found Jason’s waist and pulled his only garment—his briefs—off of him. 

Jason buried his face in the sheet and sobbed into it. He could feel the friction of the rough surfaces of Dick’s gloves as he did his thing, and he lifted his hips and followed Dick’s hands like a bitch in heat, thirsty for more contact. It had been a fantasy of Jason’s for his predecessor to place his ropes on him—but not like this. This wasn’t how it went in Jason’s mind… never to forcibly expose himself in front of Dick like this. Yet, even though Jason tried hard to contain himself, his hips moved on instinct and before he knew it, his crotch was on the bed again as he rubbed against the bed sheet, desperately getting as much friction as he could from the contact. 

Suddenly a gloved hand landed on his buttocks punishingly, making the flesh bounce and the crisp sound rang out with the sudden sting of the spank. Jason yelped in surprise before he started sobbing again. Biting his lip, Jason buried his tearing eyes into the sheet under him. 

Jason heard a sound when the drawer was pulled open and something was retrieved from it. An arm moved around him to hold some metal object beside Jason’s head as Dick’s voice rang in his ears. 

“Open up for me.”

Jason sobbed as he tried to turn his head the other way, but Dick grabbed a handful of his hair from behind and pulled, forcing him to face forward again. 

“No-no…” Jason shakily said, tears blurring his eyes, his voice sounding young and desperate, “Dick, please…”

The metallic frame of the object pressed against Jason’s lips, taking advantage as he opened his mouth to speak and slipped through the gap between his teeth. The ring-shaped object propped his mouth open with its frames. The leather straps were then clamped shut behind his head. Jason tried to speak through it, but other than vaguely sounding  _ no _ s the only thing that came out of him was saliva, now free-flowing with him powerless to stop it. 

Jason clamped his eyes shut, shaking with shamefulness and disgust as he tried to shrink down into himself, before Dick pulled his legs out from under him again. Dick reached below his hips as Jason felt the faint touch of ropes against the skin of his crotch, wrapping and knotted until his hips were decorated with a beautiful harness. The ropes Dick was using were so soft that it couldn’t cause any real harm to him, yet the skin around his hips and inner thighs was also too sensitive for the assault. It was definitely going to leave marks that’d take days to fade. Jason felt the knots brushing against his genitals and his buttocks every time he shifted around, and he moaned with it. It was unbearable, and the stimulation made Jason wriggle in his bonds, whining desperately through the spider-shaped gag. 

“You are enjoying this, aren’t you?” Dick said from somewhere above him.

Jason froze up at that. He started to sob again. The whole thing wasn’t fair. It’s a fucking nightmare. He’d rather that Dick would abuse or torture him with fists and stick and stun guns. It’s these types of punishments, ones that gave him as much pleasure as pain, that was the worst to endure. 

Dick finished tying up the final knot before he gathered up the excess ropes hanging on the end. He pulled the excess attached to the bindings on Jason’s wrists and the harness around his hips, bundled them together, and hauled them up until Jason’s hips and thighs were lifted with them. He kept him in this position before securing the ropes by wrapping them around the metal ring hanging from the ceiling. The ring and the ropes that were keeping it suspended were strong, easily withstanding the weight of an average adult. When Dick finally finished, Jason’s ass was suspended in the air with his rear exposed. The humiliating position kept his face buried within the sheets as spit kept flowing out of the ring in his mouth, overflowing as incomprehensible moans and pleas came out of him. 

Finally, Dick wrapped Jason’s ankles separately on each side before pulling them apart and fixed the ropes to the two corners of the bed, forcing his legs apart, his backside presented to his predator. Jason kept his face down and tried to force down his tears. 

Then he heard a popping sound that had become all too familiar by now. Jason knew that Dick had once again propped open the tube of lubricant. There was a wet grunt as the stuff was squeezed out of it. 

“What a surprise this is-” his predecessor talked through it. Jason then felt knuckles lightly stroking across his half-hard penis. He groaned as he twisted and shifted his hips inside their bond, involuntarily chasing after the sensation. “You like this, don’t you?” Dick said. 

Jason tried to shake his head and utter some sort of retort through his mouth. But the only sound that managed to escape was sobbing sounds as more spit flowed out of his lips. Dick quickly removed his hand, prompting a whine out of Jason as the latter twisted his hips some more in a futile attempt to chase after him, pursuing the touch of a hand that was no longer there. Then his movements were suddenly interrupted as a metal ring slipped onto his cock, sliding up until it was all the way down his shaft, pressing right into his balls.

Jason couldn’t stop his tears again, shaking in place this time. Jason couldn’t move his body and when he heard the wet sound of Dick smearing the lube onto his fingers, the only thing he could do was to tremble. 

A lubricated hand massaged at his entrance. The rough texture of the glove rubbed against the sensitive folds there, only making his erection feel more strained and painful. Jason groaned again. 

“Don't you think this is necessary, Robin?” Dick said absentmindedly. “Deep inside, you know you deserve punishment for trying to leave, don’t you?”

Dick’s fingers entered him as soon as he finished his sentence. The intrusion was sudden and made Jason arch up his body and yelp through his gag, squirming as he tried to shrink away from the invasion. Yet Dick’s hand just followed him and pumped his fingers in and out, wet sounds coming out of the connection point between the fingers and Jason’s hole.

The fingers retreated. Then there were more wet sounds as the gel was smeared onto another object. Jason felt it as the slick object pressed against his entrance. It was elliptical in shape, about the thickness of three fingers, and the front was shaped similar to a bullet. 

Jason wasn’t given enough time to guess what it was. By the time he could react Dick had already pressed the thing through his rim using one swift motion, sounding off a wet grunt and encountering little to no resistance in the process. It was fully inside of him in no time, leaving only a wire hanging out of the hole. Jason’s body jumped at the intrusion as his muscles tightened on instinct. He tried to crawl forward with his knees, trying to shift himself farther away from the hand that was violating him. He was immediately caught by the calf and forcibly pulled back towards his abuser as Dick pushed the bullet-shaped toy deeper into him.

As soon as the silicon toy hit a sensitive spot inside of his passage Jason’s body flexed and he cried through the gag. He spasmed violently a few times as he unconsciously tightened his legs and lower body, as if simply tightening the muscles surrounding his rim was enough to convince Dick to stop pulling out his fingers and remove the toy. However, his abuser just pushed the toy deeper into his channel, letting it press against the sensitive nerves, before pulling out his fingers completely. 

“Try not to move too much,” Dick said as he did so. With his thumb, he gently pressed against the hole, where the wire protruded. His other hand rested on Jason’s naked ass cheek as he squeezed a little. “Doing so will make it sink deeper.”

Jason moaned again. He couldn't stop himself from swinging his hips from side to side with the stimulation, his whole body wriggling with both pain and pleasure. He tried to beg through his gag, trying to make the word  _ no. _ But the instrument stopped his speech completely and only incomprehensible sounds came out, spit and tears wetting his face.

“I have a mission to attend to,” Dick said, standing upright. “In this room, there are five cameras and a recording device. Right now it’s located at the corner of the wall, just behind your pillow. Try to put up a show for me, Little Wing.”

By this point Jason's brain was blank. He was only vaguely aware of how Dick took out his phone and turned on the screen, pressing a few buttons as it lighted up. 

Then the vibrator inside of him burst into life.

Jason yelped through his gag, his body spasming with shock, his hips twitched, shifting between relaxing and tensing up in a nightmarish cycle. 

The strong shock lasted only a few seconds, but it was enough to enlarge his erection and make his cock swell up with blood flow, turning in color from both the stimulation and the restraint of the cock ring. He moaned and sobbed painfully, trying to put up with the toy ravishing his body. He bore it, as he tried to adjust, realizing that he won’t be able to climax any time soon.

Dick stood by the bed, his fingers hanging over the few keys on his screen. He spent some time enjoying the sight of Jason's naked ass hanging in the air, twitching as the vibrator ravaged him, and trembling with both pain and pleasure. He then pressed down on the dial and the vibration slowed. It vibrated, stopped, then vibrated again, only teasing as it tormented Jason’s prostate between intervals. Jason sobbed constantly with it, his tears falling down his face.

The ecstasy had left Jason with no rational thought. A hand was gently placed on top of his forehead and swiped at his sweat-soaked hair, softly wiping off a teardrop at the corner of his eye.

“Robin, are you crying?”

Jason sniffed and opened his eyes, trying to look through his blurred vision and at his senior who’s standing in front of him with the sinister device in his hand. But he couldn’t make out Dick’s face. 

“Even though I loathe you for taking my place,” Dick said flatly, “I have to say that you look pretty like this. We can do more of this in the future.”

Jason couldn't stop his sobs of distress. The thought that this would become something Dick wanted to do regularly both terrified and excited him. Yet, Dick’s following words pulled the floor out from under him, dropping him into the dark abyss of desperation. 

“Take this as a necessary punishment for your pathetic little stunt,” Dick said. “Joey will help monitor your situation. Stay here and wait for me to come back.”

Jason shut his eyes in horror, trying to stop the whimper threatening to come out of his mouth. He then felt a gentle pat on his cheek by a gloved hand. 

With the torturous sensation of the vibrator wreaking havoc on his nerves, Jason couldn’t remember the exact moment when Renegade left the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That conversation with Raven is a reference to Teen Titans S02E01- _How Long is Forever?_ and the art is my take on Nightwing!Dick in an alternate timeline of this AU. Now you know where I got the long hair from when it comes to Renegade.
> 
> Kudos and comments are all very appreciated!


	8. Titans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> However, when Dick was finally engaged in direct confrontation, he started to experience for the first time in years the same kind of thrill he had felt when crafting Blackfire’s death. This wasn’t like the chase that went down after Robin’s capture. This time Dick truly felt like the old days when he’d trained with his teammates. It was like going back in time, like the way they used to fight side-by-side in mutual dances of teamwork. The exercise loosened his muscles and joints, filling him with ecstasy.
> 
> And this time Dick knew he had an advantage over them. A secret they didn't know. Jason Todd. Robin— _their_ Robin, under his control. Just under the control of a remote built into the communicator in his wrist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M BACK!!!!
> 
> WARNING for this chapter: firstly, all the usual. Underage and Non-con (dub-con?) Some bondage. A bit of Joeyjay in unfortunate circumstance. Secondly, there's some (mostly)aftermath of gory/graphic violence. (Eight chapters in and the archive warning for graphic violence is only starting to peek through a tiny bit, I'm so reliable, right?) There isn't much in this chapter alone, but still be aware of it. Let me know if I need to include some kind of page divider for something on this level.
> 
> ENJOY!!

Renegade opened up the controller on his wrist and tapped a couple of times to change a few inputs.

A projected image turned on. Emitting a blue light, the built-in communication system showed an indoor scenery, a real-time footage of a surveillance camera. In it, ropes could be seen wrapping around a teenager’s body while he crouched face-first onto the bed, neat knots decorating his pale skin and restraining his limbs. Dick tapped again to up the value, eyebrows slightly knitted and watched as Robin started to squirm with the increased speed and strength of the vibrator, his nudity wriggled as he moaned. His hips swayed back-and-forth, his knees pushed and crawled within its limited range of motion, legs kept slipping on the bedsheet.

Dick can feel arousal creeping towards his crotch at the scene, but he quickly controlled himself. He tapped a few more things and the footage switched from one camera to another. This one was angled for a clear side view, Robin’s body forced into an uncomfortable position onto the bed, his arms restrained and hanging behind him. Dick allowed the projections to play for a few more seconds as he took in his successor’s despair.

Dick then silently lowered the value. In the surveillance, Robin’s body visibly relaxed. His bound arms no longer shook as he buried his face into the sheets and sobbed.

Dick let the picture play for a bit. Then, he turned off the projection and typed a string of instructions into the communicator. Reading it again to ensure that it expressed everything he wanted it to say, Dick pressed send and let his arms drop.

A few feet before him, Ravager stood between two pieces of rock as she observed the heavily guarded entrance of the underground fortress with a binocular. Terra walked up to her, passing Dick along the way, her eyebrow raised.

“Based underground, how creative,” the blonde huffed.

By now the setting sun had cast a sheet of purple upon the barren hills and cliffs. The place was devoid of much vegetation, the dry and cool air accompanied the first winds of winter, making any uncovered skin sting in the coldness. The Defiance team stood on bare rocks and dirt, the very ground hardening due to the cold. It’s Terra’s very domain, she thrived in places like these. 

And it wouldn’t take long before the sky darkened completely—maybe only ten minutes or so. Tara’s fingers were flexing and stretching with excitement, the very thought making her all-too-eager to burst into action.

“All this security, for a tiny computer chip?” Rose said as she passed the binocular to Tara, who took it and pushed her away with her shoulder and started to observe the situation herself.

There weren’t that many guards. There were only two, in fact, fully armed men who stood on guard outside of the tiny entrance. What posed as a bigger problem, however, was the security system programmed into the entrance itself. It utilized advanced technology that needed both the individual's iris and their fingerprint scans to open. Breaking into the base with brute force would trigger an emergency lockdown of the whole place.

Fortunately, they had already planned the whole invasion and knew exactly what they had to do to bypass it.

“Those two will be dead when we’re through,” Rose piped up from where she stood behind Tara. What she didn’t clarify, however, was that there would be a lot more complications after they’d done away with them. For instance, the men’s heartbeats were linked to the security system and the information synchronized every fifteen minutes. Their deaths would lead to the whole base going into red-alert lockdown mode in a short window of time. Then there’s the question of how to retrieve the prize they came for after that. The computer chip was locked under high security and only someone with high enough authority could retrieve it. A lot of casualties would still come before they could say the mission succeeded. 

“Do you think whoever had built this place—throwing away millions of dollars for a high-security research facility, only to use it for making deadly weapons—can be any good?” Dick said, voice calm. The white-haired girl turned to look at him, her two-toned cowl shielding most of her expression. Dick stood straight and started to approach her. “What we are doing, is retrieving a deadly weapon from one bastard and selling it to another. A client who’d pay big bills for this stuff.”

Rose clicked her tongue at this.

The sunlight dimmed as time passed. Dick looked down at his wristband to check the time, before snapping his head sharply towards one side, staring at the top of a cliff around the nine o’clock mark, brows furrowed.

He couldn’t be seen from here, because the old man always picked his position smartly. Behind some large rock, hiding in plain sight. Deathstroke would certainly have set up his sniper rifle at that exact location, fully ready to make an opening for them and their mission.

Dick gently pressed on the communicator in his ear with gloved fingers, listening as the sound of static shifted between loud and quiet, fine-tuning with his adjustments. Tapping on the surface of his earpiece, he listened to the sound of rubber clicking on plastic.

"Only ten minutes before we begin," Dick spoke up, "let's go over the plan one more time."

Lowering the binocular in her hands, Tara looked back, Rose doing the same. Dick spoke with that classic authoritative voice that he typically used when giving orders. Whenever he spoke up like this it was always an indication for his teammates to quiet down and listen. It had become a thing when he still led the Titans and it was still in practice when he was leading Defiance.

Dick raised his left arm and tapped a few times on his wrist guard, turning on another projection. What appeared before them was the 3D blueprint of the entire facility they were planning to invade, showing that the underground structure was divided into an upper and a lower level. The projection rotated for a clear display of the structure, emitting a faint light through the device, a blue halo surrounded the projection as the natural twilight of the sun dimmed.

"The thing we're looking for is located here," Dick knocked his index finger at a room located on the second level, making the structure light up for better display. "To get there, there are eleven doors locked with the same recognition system. After we enter it, there will also be a display tube that needs a person with a high enough authority to open. We enter from here, make it across these corridors, and find someone with the clearance to open it in the research lab. We have about fifteen minutes between Deathstroke taking out the securities and the system syncing up to trigger the place into lockdown mode. We have to complete the mission before then. However, that being said, I fully expect my team to finish the task with at least five minutes to spare. Am I making myself clear?"

Dick paused after speaking, waiting for objections and letting his instructions sink in. Then Dick tapped the blueprint again a few times, drawing a few strokes with his finger, creating a visual of a passage about two floors beneath the bottom of the base.

"Terra has built an underground passage here in advance as our escape route. It's built about five hundred yards below the lowest level to not trigger the lab's security. After we retrieve our target, we retire to the passage immediately."

“Fine, boss,” Rose snorted, hands on her waist as she shifted her weight. “As if we _want_ to stay in this hole on the ground any more than we have to.”

Dick looked up to stare her in the face. His mask concealed his annoyance.

“Stun, maim, or evade any guards you might encounter,” Dick stated. “Our most important task is to retrieve the chip. Try to avoid any direct confrontation and only initiate assault when necessary.”

“You should thank me for providing you with a route for retreat,” crossing her arms in front of her chest, Tara lifted her chin in a gesture of arrogance. “Half of this team's missions would go nowhere without me.”

“Got it,” Dick said as he shut down the projection. “That's why Deathstroke regards so highly of you.”

Staring back at him, Tara's eyes narrowed slightly. She didn't answer him, and no one continued to speak afterward either. A heavy tension fell between the three, so strong that it was almost suffocating.

By now, even the last gleam of light had vanished beneath the horizon. When Dick turned off the projection, the three members were almost completely swallowed by the dark. Dick was still able to see the faces of his teammates clearly through the built-in night vision on the lenses of his domino mask. Tara finally snorted and stretched out her hand, intending to pull her own goggles over her eyes. Suddenly, a loud bang rang out through the canyon.

All at the same time, the three turned back to look. The second guard stood beside the body of his partner, who was lying dead with a bleeding bullet hole on his head. The doomed fool took the machine gun from his shoulder and pointed it aimlessly around him, head tossing from side to side, looking completely at a loss. When he finally became aware of the dot of the infrared ray aimed straight between his eyebrows it was too late. Then the second shot came.

From where they were it was impossible to hear the sound of the guard's body landing, only the ear-numbing gunshot echoing in the valley. It's almost something that could shatter their eardrums even from this distance. They could see the machine gun slipping from the second guard's hand through their night vision lenses, however, his body swayed and teetered, before finally falling right on top of his dead partner.

Dick immediately pressed an index finger onto his earpiece, waiting for the static sounds to dissipate.

“Deathstroke?” He prompted.

The static lasted for a while. By the time it finally died down, they were immediately greeted by the calm sound of Slade's voice.

‘Your first obstacle had been cleared,’ the mercenary echoed through the communicator. ‘You have fifteen minutes. Children, don't let me down.’

“Understood,” Dick replied. “Tell Wintergreen to get our ride ready when we’re done.”

He didn't wait for Slade to reply. Dick dropped his hands and looked up, staring at his two teammates, eyes narrowing.

“Fifteen minutes,” He reinstated. “Prepare to take us down there, Terra. Ravager, get your sword ready. Prepare to harvest some cadavers.”

The smiles his teammates exhibited at this had Dick's blood boil with delight.

+++

It's hard to tell how long had passed since Dick left. It might have only been a few minutes, or it might have been a whole day.

Jason held onto the edge of consciousness. The pleasure of his body causing white flashes to constantly invade his vision, and it was like his mind was being shut down and restarting from time to time as he was drained again and again. The toy, pushed deep into his body, made electrifying currents shoot out from the sensitive spot like a ball of anger, constantly stimulating the bundle of nerves.

Jason could faintly feel the soreness of his limbs. His limbs that had been constrained in their extreme positions for way too long, making him feel like a piece of wood. His cock felt painful in its confines, and the bullet-shaped vibrator started up from time to time, raging inside of him. The rope kept rubbing at his already flush skin as he kept squirming and wriggling. It was unbearable. His hands tied straight behind him, his bare ass forced up in the air, wiggling his behind like some bitch in heat with the stimulation.

If he had never fantasized about being tied up and used in this exact way, then the vibrator might not have made him feel as unbearable as it did.

What's especially cruel was this was exactly what Jason had always fantasized. How much he idolized his predecessor, how much he wanted to have his attention and the caress. Even without the nasty toys tormenting him, then maybe the ropes themselves were enough to excite him. How Jason wanted to feel the sensation of Dick fucking him from behind—it was indeed what he had always thought about, the desire was driving him mad.

Thinking of this was only making Jason’s cock grow with more anticipation, painful with the cock ring around it. The toy filling him stimulated his body with every tiny vibrating motion, constantly hitting his prostate, each time making the sensitive nerves there overreact with what felt like currents of electricity filling his body. Jason couldn’t help but moan through his open lips.

Saliva dripped and pooled around him. Every time Jason groaned with a sudden beat of the toy more spit would flow out, impossible for him to swallow with his mouth gagged. His cock twitched violently with the sudden and unpredictable assaults, his ass shaking in the air. It was too difficult to find a slightly more comfortable position, the only thing his efforts achieved was allowing the toy to shoot more waves of pleasure through him. Along with the pain of being denied release, they made Jason constantly whimper through his gagged mouth, obscene waves of sounds that one would expect to hear from porn videos.

Jason’s mouth had become unbearably dry within minutes, unable to contain moisture due to the way it’s kept open. He tried to swallow his spit even though it didn't help much. The effort only allowed more saliva to drip out of his lips, pooling beneath his head and leaving a wet spot of water stain.

The toy smoothly vibrated for a while, stopped for a few seconds, then started up again to repeat the unhurried process. The teasing was unbearable, then Jason’s slow and shallow moans were suddenly interrupted as the vibrator increased its strength. Jason screamed through the gag, wailing as he twisted his body in response to the torment, hips convulsing in the air like a whore.

It’s unendurable. He couldn’t stand it at all, yet there was no way out of his peril. Jason’s body was getting tired and strained both from the position and the unrelenting force moving against his prostate. He tossed and turned as much as his position allowed, making the bed sheet underneath wrinkled and bunched. There was a tearing pain in his throat that came from both the screams and the loss of moisture, his voice was going hoarse.

The camera… Jason suddenly remembered their presence. There were five, Dick had said, as well as a voice recorder that was documenting his groans, documenting every moan he made like a slut. The vibrator had to be remotely controlled and Dick alone held the remote. He had to. Jason tried to crack his eyes open and use his peripherals to catch any reflected lights that might have come from the lens of any of the cameras. But his eyes were misted over, everything in his vision becoming a chaotic whirlwind of colors and shapes.

The vibrator raged on for a few minutes, Jason’s painful screams and writhing lasted just as long. By the time it finally slowed down the bedsheet beneath him was clumped together and almost completely drenched with his sweat, and Jason’s sore body collapsed like a stringless marionette. He tried to breathe deeper breaths through his gag but the only things he managed with his mouth open were short-breathed gasps.

Jason stayed paralyzed like this, body hanging as much as his bonds allowed—the ropes suspending his hips and arms were the only things supporting him—and he entered into a state of detachment. His warm and flushing skin now broke into a cold sweat as he became unresponsive, even to the toy still stuck and periodically vibrating inside his passage.

Jason stayed like this for a long time, completely passive other than the occasional twitch and bounce of his hips following the pattern of the vibrator’s beat. He didn’t move until there was the warmth from the skin of another person suddenly touching him. A large hand with slim and long fingers was placed on Jason’s back, gently pressing between his shoulder blades. Jason jumped at the sudden contact.

He didn’t realize how warm his body had become before this, the feeling of the foreign hand felt so cool to the touch that it might as well be ice cubes. Jason suddenly snapped back and became overly aware of his predicament again—the touch of the rope on his skin and the object pushed into his body. Jason sobbed and buried his face deeper into the sheet, as if he could hide his shame this way.

But the hand simply found its way upwards and started gently stroking Jason’s sweat-soaked hair. Jason’s entire body tightened beneath the touch. The fingertips were callused and felt rough, stroking a few times before they retrieved altogether. Then Jason felt the touch of a hand on his shoulder, hooking its fingers beneath the ropes there. The other hand reached underneath him in support of his abdomen and rib cage. Then, using both hands, the newcomer pulled him off of the position to have him kneel on the bed.

Jason was finally away from the mess of the sweaty bed sheet. He was dizzy for a moment and it took a long time before the image finally cleared. He blinked a few times, allowing the tear to fade away. There were dried tears stuck on his cheeks and the corners of his eyes and he could feel them cracking on his skin with even the slightest of expression. 

An indentation formed on the mattress beside Jason. The newcomer sat down carefully and supported him with both of his hands. The man’s face finally appeared in Jason’s field of vision, and as soon as Jason saw the familiar features of the blond, he couldn’t stop himself from squeezing another pained sob out of his dry and scratchy esophagus.

There was no malice in the way Joey was looking at him. In fact, he didn’t carry even a hint of shock, like Jason had expected. On the contrary, he was full of empathy. Joey’s green eyes, always a window that conveyed his thoughts, was now filled with a certain mystery that Jason couldn’t decipher.

Jason had no memory of when exactly the man came in. He was too overtaken by the pleasure and torture on his body, and now even the choice of hiding this wanton side of him from his new friend was taken away.

Jason sobbed again, pain and desperation seeping out of his every pore. Right now he was kneeling on the bed with his knees pulled apart and ankles tied to either side of the footboard. Not only was he completely nude, he had to rely on Joey to stay upright. Jason lowered his head in shame, sobbing into his chest, shoulders trembling. He tried to hold back his tears by sniffing, but the only thing it did was letting more saliva flow out of him and drip from his lips, making him look even more pathetic in front of his compassionate friend.

Of course, Joey said nothing. He just quietly reached behind Jason's head, making poking and flipping motions with his fingers to fuss with the clasp until he finally undid the thing. Joey hooked his index finger into the frame of the spider-shaped plug and slowly pulled it out, prompting the boy to whimper.

The momentary sense of relief almost made Jason fall limp. He almost let out a sigh of relief, but only succeeding in making a small, dry, and pitiful, sob. The metal gag was soaked in saliva with the excess clear liquid dripping in a silvery line of thread. Jason tried to catch his breath as Joey placed the gag on the table, while gently patting him on the back.

There was a sound when a bottle cap was opened. Jason felt the bottle mouth at his lips.

Joey would never order Jason to do these small things like Dick would. The man was gentle, his actions didn’t contain even the slightest trace of force. Jason swallowed the water without even thinking about it. His body was twisted in the unnatural angle with how he was tied as he tried to balance on top of his knees, only able to keep the difficult position with Joey’s help. Joey tilted the bottle to help him, letting the water moisturize Jason’s throat, dried from his excessive salivation and painful from the water loss. It didn’t take long before Jason downed an entire half of the bottle.

Joey kept the mouth pressed to his lips even as Jason stopped drinking, silently urging him to take some more. But Jason shook his head a little, even this tiny movement causing the vibrator to burrow into his prostate. He whimpered with the unbearable pain and pleasure.

“P-please, Joey,” he begged, crying, “take it out...” 

The hand holding the bottle paused. It stayed still for a bit like a statue.

Jason lowered his head in embarrassment and sobbed distressfully.

“Please,” he pleaded again.

Joey paused for a moment, seeming to weigh his options. Then the mouth of the bottle was pressed to Jason’s lips again, urging him to drink more, as if bargaining with him.

Jason didn't immediately drink. He shut his eyes and sobbed, shaking and convulsing from the vibrator still raging in his body. But Joey was unwavering. Jason forced himself to raise his head again and used whatever little energy he had to take the plastic opening into his mouth. He couldn’t let out another whine as the liquid started to flow again.

More water flowed into his esophagus and relieved his throat of dryness. His hoarse vocal cords felt a lot better, but the only thing Jason wanted right was to be free of the torture of the toy.

As soon as the last bit of water disappeared Jason took a deep breath, wet and gurgling with tears.

“Joey, please…” He pleaded again, voice breaking up- ”I-I can't-”

Then he was caught with a sudden realization. Jason stopped in horror.

What if Joey simply couldn’t do it? What if... if this was all according to Dick's instructions, and Joey had absolutely no way to defy his friend? Tara had said that Dick was Deathstroke’s most favored pupil among them, after all. What if that simply meant that the person who held the power of the final decision was his predecessor and him alone, and even Joey did not have the permission to help him-?

Jason panicked at the thought. His breath stuck in his throat for a moment before it gradually broke into a wet pant. In his anxious state, Jason felt as a hand placed itself behind his neck before it gently yet firmly pressed down.

Jason yelped as he was pushed forward into the bed again. His face sank into the sheet, already soaked by his sweat, tears, and spit. Jason screwed his eyelids shut, trying to suppress his whimpers. Sniffing, he tried to push down more of his humiliating sobs and moans.

Joey placed his palm flat on Jason's back and gently caressed twice in downward strokes. He placed the empty bottle on the bedside table, and after he made sure that Jason wouldn’t suddenly start struggling, he walked around to stand behind him, keeping one hand on the red rope that bound him.

Joey stood still behind Jason. The boy's body was trembling, and the exposed feeling was making him sick. But Joey seemed to fully understand and didn't waste any time proceeding with his plan. Jason felt something pull at the wire hanging outside his hole. It was just a tentative pull at first, with no contact of Joey’s finger on his skin. Then the wire was being dragged outwards as Joey pulled the bullet-shaped vibrator away from the nerve bundle on his prostate.

Jason almost sighed in relief. The vibrator made a wet _pop_ when it was plucked from his rim, finally removed from his entrance completely.

Jason sobbed as he buried his face deeper. Beside him, the silicon toy was gently placed on the table. Then there were footsteps as Joey left, door carefully clicking shut as he walked out of the room. Then, the room became quiet and Jason was alone again.

The toy still vibrated during certain intervals on the nightstand, buzzing on the plastic tabletop.

It did nothing to alleviate Jason's plight.

Even without the torture device, Jason was still tied in an uncomfortable position. The ropes still rubbed against his skin, teasing in the worst way possible. He was still locked in the cock ring and was refused from release. This was still torture, and Jason had never hoped more than now that Dick could complete his mission sooner so he could come back and save him from this nightmare. Jason never regretted his actions as much as he did now.

Why did he run in the first place? It didn’t do him any good, did it? The only thing it did was giving his predecessor more power and advantage over him. More excuses to punish him, more leverage to be used against him. And it allowed Dick more insights into Jason’s most embarrassing secrets and fantasies.

It seemed that the longer Jason spent with Dick the more secrets and weaknesses his captor would find out and use against him—his desires, his sexual fantasies—each little thing could be used as a tool to make him surrender.

Jason sobbed. All of this was unfair to him. Even now, when the bullet-shaped vibrator buzzed and shook on the table beside him, Jason still couldn’t stop thinking of Dick—his abuser, but also his _Robin._

Jason remembered the recorded footage he’d watched, watching as the former Robin with his gelled hair training in the Batcave, half-naked with sweat gleaming on his copper skin. His confident posture and smile, graceful and agile backflips, wielding his bo staff as he trained with the Titans or Bruce, performing a duel like a dancer would perform their most breathtaking prances.

Yet, such a perfect human would still act shy and timid around Kori. Jason couldn’t get past how such a skilled fighter and leader would treat his crush so tenderly. Thinking of this alone was making Jason ashamed of himself, fantasizing the relationship between his predecessor and someone who had passed, it was almost a blasphemy against Kori’s legacy.

But Jason couldn't stop himself from thinking these things. Every time he saw the former Robin draping a cape or a jacket on the Tamaranian Princess’ shoulders, and saw the teenager smiling at her, Jason couldn’t stop imagining it was him who was on the receiving end of that tenderness. These terrible little thoughts were a source of his shamefulness. What he’s getting was completely justified. After all, wasn’t it Jason’s fault for fantasizing so lewdly about the way his predecessor treated him, terrible though it was?

Jason twisted his body inside the restraints, whimpering and groaning constantly, slurring indistinguishable mutterings into the sheet beneath him. His knees kept crawling on the bed as he tried to bring his legs together, to bring any small frictions to his caged cock. All kinds of unintelligible grumbles were pouring out of his lips.

It’s torture, and Jason prayed for the nth time to god-knew-whom that Dick could finish with the mission and return soon.

+++

The underground passage was empty save for Defiance and a dozen guards scattered about, now lying motionless on the ground. 

Rose was walking at the forefront. In one of her gloved hands there was a roughly spherical object with black matted hair, scalp sticky with dried blood; and in the other a severed human hand so darkened by blood that it was near impossible to tell the color of its original skin tone.

The underground passage had bright fluorescent lights and spotted walls. Among the guards they’d dispatched, more than half were unconscious but still alive. For the ones that had died, however, their blood had all spewed out in chaotic sprinkles before their death, more than enough to paint the clean walls into a million splotches of color—crimson splattered all over, looking like unruly graffiti on the usually light blue walls. Dick needed to find time to talk to his teammates about their efficiency after the mission was done. Tidiness was almost always more beneficial to them when they dispatched obstacles.

Only seven minutes had passed since the mission had officially begun, not long enough for the death of the guards to trigger the security alarms, yet they were already standing in front of the last door before they could retrieve their target. Even with Renegade’s more strict standards for his team, they still had more than enough time to finish their task and get out.

That was, suppose that no one would show up and disrupt their plans. But Dick was not naive enough to think it would go that smoothly.

The project’s lead scientist was walking in front of Dick right now, deliberately left alive to get them past the last line of security before they got their spoils. The old man’s body shook under the white lab coat he wore, threatened by the pressure of Dick’s blade on his back. He was probably in his sixties and was balding on the scalp, his short stature swayed back-and-forth on top of his stumbling feet as if his legs were made of playdoh. Dick directed him to the last locked entrance before motioning to Rose with his chin. With the level of mutual understanding between him and his team, the small gesture was more than enough for her to understand him.

Rose started to work even before Dick stopped moving. Lifting the severed head in her hand, she aligned one of the blue irises—lids cut off for better access—with the scanner while placing the palm of the hand onto the screen below. The machine took several seconds to beep with clearance. The lock clicked as the door slid open.

Dick pressed his sword warningly at the old man’s back, wordlessly motioning him to walk inside.

The lab was circular in shape, both spacious and bright with fluorescent lights. On one side of the wall there was a huge projection screen, and on the opposite side a row of computers, their screens showing standby mode. The place had all the most high-tech systems installed, calculating with the highest capacity and recording as much data as possible for the digital weapon they were creating. At the center of the room was a display tube no more than the diameter of the teacup sitting atop a platform, where the chip was located. The tube was protected, however, with bulletproof glass walls, which only the lead scientist had the clearance to get past.

Rose followed into the lab and Dick heard two blunt crashes on the floor as she let the head and the hand of the unfortunate guard fall to the ground. The head rolled and drizzled a few drops of blood before it stopped at the foot of the wall. Tara came in behind her, crossing her arms over her armored chest.

“Well?” The girl's sharp voice piped up from behind.

The old scientist swallowed. Dick could see his throat bobbing. Dick removed his sword from the man’s back and gestured with it to order him to walk, and the old man did as he was told, tremblingly walking up to the glass wall, entering a string of passwords into the computer, and forced his body to stop shaking when it scanned his iris. 

Everything went smoothly. The glass opened with a ticking sound and Rose entered to retrieve the small chip from the display tube, carefully placing it in the secure box they had prepared for this very purpose. By the time she was done her lips were almost stretched to her ears with victory. It was another task successfully completed. Dick knew the kid was proud of this. But it’s still too early to feel victorious at this moment.

Dick flicked the sword in his hand, the hilt landing on the scientist's temple. The old man barely snorted before he fell to the floor, unconscious.

“Be vigilant,” Dick said, returning his weapon into its hilt. “It's not over until we successfully evacuate.”

A big part of these words were specifically directed at Rose. The girl had just finished stuffing the box into her belt and stepped out of the glass to stand by Dick’s side again, and she sneered at him when he said this.

“Terra,” Dick ordered, “take us to the underground passage.”

Tara was already lifting her arms to get ready to do just that. A rumbling sound came from under their feet as the stones and cement of the floor cracked. The crack was small at first, but it gradually widened until rough rocks and earth could be seen under the concrete.

That’s the moment when a figure suddenly appeared at the door. The burly figure showed up in shadow, blocking most of the light from the hallway. When the man raised his hand, the fluorescent light could be seen bouncing off of the metals on his body.

Dick briefly turned and had to squint to adjust to the sudden brightness of the reflection. He had 0.40 seconds to react before the mysterious newcomer suddenly attacked. It was more than enough.

“Dodge!” Dick called, just before the cannon burst with a sudden fluctuation of sonic waves.

Tara immediately built a stone wall for herself as Dick shielded Rose with his body, successfully dealing with Cyborg’s first wave of attack. Dick wordlessly turned his head towards Tara, the frown he had beneath the domino mask was enough to communicate his full instruction to her.

_Act faster, I’ll cover for you. Let Ravager go in first after you get it ready._

Then, just right before Cyborg’s second sonic wave hit them, Dick promptly pushed Rose towards Tara and turned around, confronting his former teammate face-to-face.

Victor's arm was stretched forward, the complicated machinery on his limb had split apart to form a built-in cannon. The center of which was glowing a cool blue light as more energy gathered there. Every machine part of Dick’s former friend was emitting the same blue light from the seals like the way he remembered. But this time their meeting was different. Victor’s features were devoid of any semblance of that smile he usually wore. Instead, his thick brows were furrowed and his one human eye revealed the kind of concentration one only showed when facing their most dangerous enemy. The cyborg’s top lips curled up to reveal a row of white teeth as he silently growled.

The center of the sonic cannon emitted more light, the blues gathering into a dazzling white illumination, accumulating an impressive amount of power. The corners of Dick’s lips raised slightly into a smile.

It had only been a few days before they last fought each other, yet his Titans pals were already filled with determination to take Defiance down. It had quickly become more than just a game of chase. Dick’s blood boiled with the prospect of the new rivalry—because he knew his Titans were only being so insistent for _their Robin._ Yet, Dick held an advantage over them. A secret that wasn’t so secret.

With a sharp turn, Dick managed to dodge the next attack of sound waves. He reached into his belt and quickly retrieved a few small explosives before quickly throwing them at Victor’s feet. The cyborg’s pupil shrank with surprise as he quickly lowered the cannon in favor of leaping aside to skirt. Long before the loud bangs came, Dick was already sure that his friend could escape them without issue. Dick had confidence in it.

A crack suddenly sounding from behind him made Dick aware that the tunnel was open, and Tara was already letting Rose hop in with the chip she secured. Dick took another gadget from his belt, a flash bomb, and rolled it toward Cyborg like one would do with a bowling ball.

Victor had just gotten up on his feet before he realized Dick’s move, and he quickly turned around to point his sonic cannon at the egg-shaped object on the ground. He was too late to stop it from going off.

The flash bomb burst into a shield of bright light. Dick knew that Cyborg could quickly switch to his one mechanical eye to see past the flash, but the quarter of a second it would take for him to achieve that was enough for Dick to get away. 

Tara was standing in the crater she had just dug and looking up at Dick with her eyes shielded behind her goggles. Dick didn’t waste any time jumping in after her. Tara drew her hands together behind him, closing the opened crack on the lab’s floor.

It was pitch-black underground, but the built-in night vision in their eyewear allowed them to navigate freely. Rose stood by Dick’s side as Tara quickly got to work, controlling the rock they stood on to descend like an elevator, rapidly falling towards the tunnel she had dug beforehand for the very purpose of retreat.

The rock slashed across the underground rocks and soil, giving off a constant sound of rough frictions. Dick stood behind Tara as she concentrated on her work and watched as Rose took the box from her belt, opening it up excitedly to inspect the prize of their night’s hard work.

The thing seemed to be just a featureless chip, no bigger than a thumbnail, decorated with metallic patterns. It was hard to distinguish its color or other details with only their night vision lenses on, but Rose still wouldn’t let the thing close, looking at their spoil over and over again with pride.

Dick stretched his hand over, closing the lid from behind her. Rose turned her head to glare at Dick, top lip pulling upwards into a growl.

“Don’t touch it,” Dick ordered. “Put it away. The Titans will be waiting for us outside. Get ready for a fight as soon as we leave the tunnel. ”

Rose’s expression fell as a more surprised look found its way onto her face.

“You think they’ll set up an ambush for us?”

Dick snorted.

“I _know_ they had.”

The fact that Cyborg was by himself just then had their plan laid out. It meant that Victor wasn’t their main force of attack. He was a bait. A dachshund whose main goal was to drive the rabbit out of its burrow so the hunter could shoot it. This was their trick— _his_ trick. This was what the once-Robin had trained his team to do.

Where the Titans had failed was to recognize that in this chase, they were never the hunters. They were the prey.

“After we exit, the first Titan to attack will be Speedy. The one who specializes in long-range attacks,” Dick analyzed. He lifted his wrist to call up the projection again. As the blue light lit up, they found before them a 3D model for the structure of the entirety of the canyon, with each valley and hill mapped out to precision. He pointed out a location on a far-off cliff with his hand, “We’ve studied this terrain before. There is only one place he could be and it’s here. This is the only high ground suitable for shooting at the exit. Terra will give me a lift so I can take Speedy out while you cover for me. If Raven and Beast Boy show up to intercept, they will have to take it up with you two. As soon as I’m done with Speedy I’ll come to lend you a hand. We shall separate them first, then conquer.”

“What if your analysis is wrong, Holmes?” Rose snorted.

To Dick’s surprise, Tara quickly backed him up.

“Renegade had never miscalculated when it came to the Teen Titans, Ravager.”

“I don’t just _understand_ my old team, I _trained_ them,” Dick enhanced his voice to make his point, “just like I’ve trained you. I know how they work, how they function. I know what makes them _tick.”_

The journey underground was long and boring. Tara's pre-excavated tunnel was situated half a mile below the base, and when the team finally arrived there, it was just like any unassuming underground passage like the ones they used all the time. There was no need for them to speed up, especially when they knew how the Teen Titans would be lying in wait outside when they reached the end, waiting for the rabbit to come out of its burrows.

Dick made his first command when they were about seven or eight minutes away from the exit. “Terra,” he spoke up, “get your rocks ready. Speedy almost definitely will use one of his net-arrows. Redirect it with your rock and break up his first round of attack, then send me up there to meet him.”

Outside of the tunnel’s exit was a mostly barren piece of land made up of stone and earth, a single cliff stood on the right, reflecting cool-toned starlight under the night sky.

Dick picked out the figure of his former friend the very moment he went above ground, the archer’s red suit making him impossible to miss as he stood atop a distant mountain, arrow drawn.

Roy’s bow was stretched to its limit as he waited for the right moment to strike. When Defiance emerged from the tunnel, he saw his chance and let the arrow fly.

The arrow flew and broke into four in midair, spreading a net between them.

There was a _whoosh_ as Tara stood in front and with a nimble flex of her wrist, a magnificent stone pillar rose from the ground and instantly threw the net off-course. Dick drew his katana in silence as Rose did the same.

“Beware of any of the others,” he murmured to his team, “Raven and Beast Boy are definitely nearby, and we still can’t rule out the possibility that Wonder Girl is here too.”

Dick leaped after he said this, climbing up the pillar agilely. Tara waved her hand to raise the pillar higher, instantly sending Dick to the top of the cliff where Roy was situated. Dick made a jump for it as soon as the foundation was tall enough for it, landing an accurate kick on Roy’s shoulder and sending him tumbling before he had time to load his second arrow.

Behind him, Dick heard the cry of an eagle in midair. It looked like Garfield wasn’t too far behind. The green-feather bird hovered in the air a few rounds before it was suddenly hit by a piece of rock thrown at it, and it made a sudden turn before it started to plummet through the air. There were tendrils of black energy materializing and twirling, catching the eagle while covering it in countless shadowy coils, protecting the changeling and cushioning his landing. Raven had arrived.

Roy landed on his back, but he didn't waste any time before he jumped back up again, retrieving more arrows from his quiver as he did so. He leaped up in one smooth motion and set the arrow on his bow, aiming it at Renegade, who was standing motionless in front of him. The redhead’s contemplative frown in stark contrast to the poignant smile on Dick's face.

Their stalemate lasted for a few seconds. Roy's expression was gradually changing, and Dick couldn’t help but take a guess at his former friend’s thought right now. Why was Dick just standing there instead of attacking? Did Dick’s smile look familiar to Roy? Dick wanted to know what Roy was thinking. How sure was he about Robin's whereabouts? Did he know what exactly Robin meant to the Renegade? What Robin _was_ to the Renegade?

Roy reacted instantly to Dick's small movement. The arrow fired, aiming at Dick’s shoulder, one of the few places on Renegade's body that wasn’t protected by armor. But Dick knew his tricks, and the slight change in expression on his friend's face was enough to reveal his intention. Dick didn't move all that much, his torso simply moved out of the way for an inch or so, easily dodging the arrow. He twirled his sword the same instant, testing its weight in his hand, and was more than ready to fight.

Close combat wasn’t the archer’s strongest suit, it’s exactly where Dick wanted him. He approached quickly and attacked with just as much briskness, barely allowing Roy any time to withdraw from the fight to find high ground. Dick could see Roy’s face scrunching up from the effort but he wasn’t backing down. Roy was able to shoot another two arrows at Dick, both at the same time, angling them wide enough to make up for the closeness of their conflict. Dick dodged one while slashing the other with his sword. He came up to Roy, and the redhead had to duck quickly to dodge Dick’s attack and back away. 

Dick was impressed. He had always known that his friend was resourceful, but in the many years he had been away Roy had also matured, able to face Dick head-on in many ways. 

However, when Dick was finally engaged in direct confrontation, he started to experience for the first time in years the same kind of thrill he had felt when crafting Blackfire’s death. This wasn’t like the chase that went down after Robin’s capture. This time Dick truly felt like the old days when he’d trained with his teammates. It was like going back in time, like the way they used to fight side-by-side in mutual dances of teamwork. The exercise loosened his muscles and joints, filling him with excitement.

And this time Dick knew he had an advantage over them. A secret they didn't know. Jason Todd. Robin— _their_ Robin—under his control. Just under the control of a remote built into the communicator in his wrist.

Dick's progressive attack quickly had Roy on the defenses. In an instant, Dick landed on top of him, sword clashing with the archer’s bow.

The collision point trembled with both of their strengths. Roy glared up at Dick, eyes covered by his mask but brows furrowed angrily, baring his teeth in a furious growl.

“Where is he?” the archer barked, “what did you do to him?”

Dick didn’t answer. The corner of his mouth rose to form an arrogant sneer, the smile not reaching his eyes. His reaction made Roy even angrier than before. Dick could hear an enraged roar tearing out of the redhead’s larynx.

“Fucker!” Roy shouted.

Years ago, when the two had met for the first time, Dick had won in a competition by breaking Roy's bow. But this time was different. Dick watched as his former teammate pressed somewhere on his bow, and a current of electricity jumped up.

Dick felt the current climbing from the blade toward his hand. He retreated, giving Roy a chance to get up. The archer turned and ran, trying to widen the distance between them. But Dick knew Roy showing him his unprotected back would be the dumbest thing he could do.

A precise kick landed on the small of Roy's back and sent him tumbling, his body spinning around, his feet losing balance. Seeing his friend was falling over the cliff, Dick quickly rushed over, wasting no time at all.

A hand stretching across the cliff’s edge was able to take a handful of Roy’s uniform without issue, suspending him in the air. Looking over the cliff, Dick could see the young man’s face freezing in sudden astonishment, his orange-red, shoulder-length hair flowing in the breeze.

Dick gave Roy only a few seconds to take in the situation. Giving him the chance to fully understand that Renegade could release his grip any time and allow Speedy to drop. Letting him know who was in control of whether he lived or died. Then Dick hoisted Roy with enough strength to throw him back onto the platform.

Roy rolled a few times on the ground and got up quickly. He stood there, looking back at Dick, surprised.

“...Who-?” His friend hesitated, but Dick didn't give him time to finish that train of thought. Taking advantage of Roy’s shock, Dick quickly stepped forward and slammed the hilt of his sword against Roy's temple.

The redhead groaned and fell to the ground motionless. Dick knew he wouldn't cause trouble for a little while.

After solving the problem at hand, Dick quickly ran to the edge of the cliff to check on the rest of his teammates.

Rose was fighting with Gar on his left. She was just taking a hold of the green serpent curling up around her body before throwing it aside. Gar managed to shapeshift into a bird before he landed, flying up. His body was already a gigantic green rhinoceros when he was finally on the ground, his new weight causing the earth to shake beneath his feet. Then the Titan pointed his horns forward and ran towards Rose. The girl hurriedly dodged, sword in hand.

Dick knew his mentee could solve this on her own. But his heart sank when he soon realized what Rose facing Garfield meant for Raven.

On his right, Dick could see through the night vision in his mask a cloud of black mist floating into the air. Raven was enveloped in her soul self, and Tara's rocks were continuously thrown from the ground, trying to hit her.

Dick didn’t waste any time. He didn’t wait for Tara to raise another stone pillar and let it plunge into Raven’s soul energy before he acted. By the time Raven was hit, wounded, and falling through the air, Dick had quickly jumped back onto the same stone tower that his teammate had raised prior for him and slid down from it.

He jumped and skipped, running on the slanting plane of the pillar, the long process took at least a few minutes. By the time Dick finally landed on the ground, Tara had trapped Raven into a crack in the crust. Dick ran and watched as the struggling girl was buried alive by pieces of earth and rock. Dark energy gathered around her hands, but her powers were useless. Dick knew Raven’s power was controlled by her emotions, and with how much she must be panicking it wasn’t half as effective.

Tara stood on high ground, two clenched fists pointing to the ground and a couple of yellow halos were gathered around them. It was difficult to see her ghastly expression from a distance, but Dick could just imagine what she looked like with hatred deeply carved onto her face. Tara was exhausting all her strength in destroying her old Titan enemy. Her rock devoured Raven’s cloak bit by bit, then they buried her to her thighs, followed by her torso, and finally to her neck.

When Dick arrived, he had just enough time to see Raven suck in her last breath of air before she was fully swallowed by the earth, the energy glows in her eyes fading. Dick could see fear through her deep blue irises, the kind of fear that one rarely saw in her.

Dick didn’t bother to run to Raven’s aid. Instead, he used a grappling hook to find height, hanging on the cliff until he was high enough to attack his teammate from above. With a precise kick, he hit Tara's hip from the side, his foot making contact with her armor. The girl gasped before falling down. Dick landed, standing where she was only moments before, staring down at her.

“What are you doing, Terra?” He accused, trying to sound apathetic, but it came out more impatient than he’d wanted. “We discussed this before the mission. No dispatching of bystanders unless necessary.”

Tara got up from the ground. Dick's attack was calculated. He wouldn't leave injuries on any of his teammates, let alone hurting her enough to hinder her contribution to the mission because of some preposterous internal dispute. Tara was able to stand up quickly, acquiring no injuries other than some dirt and mud on her uniform. She looked furious.

“Fuck you, Renegade!” the girl yelled, “the witch is an enemy!”

“Maybe she is,” Dick replied coolly, “but we don't need to bring more trouble for ourselves by causing unnecessary casualties. The task had been completed. We need to leave. Right now.”

Tara gradually calmed down. She glared back at Dick, her eyes full of hostility.

After a bit, she finally said to him, "No. I won’t."

Dick exhaled a frustrated breath. Tara turned around, and more rocks swallowed Raven until it buried both her head and her outstretched hands. Tara was applying pressure to the earth. She intended to crush Raven’s with the earth's crust.

Before Dick had time to stop her, there was suddenly a bestial roar from the distance. Dick’s eyes widened with astonishment as he saw a green tiger pounce from a distance until it reached the spot where Raven was buried, blocking the spot with its body before issuing a warning roar at Tara.

Dick saw a surprised look on Tara's face. He could see her hands starting to tremble, and the rocks pressing down starting to loosen their pressure.

Garfield stood in front of Raven and directed his warning towards Tara. He didn't attack, but Dick could see an indescribable sadness on the feline face of his former teammate. He knew that his green friend still had feelings for Tara Markov, and judging from the way Tara was acting, the feeling was still mutual.

Dick stepped forward and came to Tara's side. He didn’t use force this time, merely gently placing his hand on the girl's shoulder. Through the fabric of his gloves and her armor, Dick could feel the petite girl’s slight quiver.

Seeing that Tara was making no further moves, Gal turned around in a hurry, transforming from a tiger into a huge mountain gorilla in the process and began to dig up the pieces of stone one by one with his strong arms. He used primate fingers to dig into the gaps and dug the rocks out of the ground, acting hysterical.

Not long after, there was suddenly a cloud of black energy flowing out of the cracks and gathered together, swallowing a few rocks with its magic before elevating them and throwing them aside. The gorilla saw this and dug faster, until a black-sleeved hand finally reached out from under the crust. Gal changed back into his human form, taking Raven's hand, and exhausted all his strength to pull her out of the ground.

“It's time to go,” Dick whispered. His tone was soft but still filled with the commanding resonance of a leader.

Tara shook off the hand on her shoulder and rushed towards where their ride would show, not looking back.

Dick stood still. He turned his head and watched Raven emerge from the earth, finally letting out a gasp. She was immediately pulled into Garfield’s embrace, so fast that the girl's cloak went flying. The scene was familiar, reminding Dick briefly of his past.

Suddenly, Dick realized that he wasn’t the only one who felt the subtle shift in the atmosphere. Raven raised her head from Gar’s shoulder, motionless gaze silently settling on Dick. Those eyes had a certain kind of gravitation, a silent magnetic force formed between him and her that had existed ever since Dick's Robin era. Unexplainable, but it was the exact thing he had once felt when he had to find her through numerous difficulties after Trigon brought about the end of the world. Dick's eyes narrowed slightly.

He saw in Raven’s eyes a light of _understanding._ At that moment, Dick was sure that he’d never been as certain about something as he did just then. She _knew._

“Renegade!” Rose called from a distance. Accompanying it, Dick could hear the slapping of a helicopter’s propeller. "Our ride is here!"

This was their chance. Give the Titans a few more minutes and they’d have enough time to regroup and begin their second round of attack. Now was the perfect time to leave.

Dick threw a final and meaningful glance at his former teammates. Then he turned and jumped down from the height, running with a high speed towards the helicopter as he sheathed his sword.

Tara was already sitting inside and was fastening her seat belt. Dick followed Rose, and as soon as he stepped onto the ladder, the helicopter lifted off the ground and ascended. Dick climbed into the cabin, stood at the door, and glanced at Rose. She was sitting next to Slade in the back seat, happily taking out the box with the chip from her belt and presenting it to her father.

Slade put aside the laptop in his lap and took it. He opened the lid and inspected its content.

“Task completed wonderfully,” the man said unhurriedly. He carefully took the chip out, pinching it between his thumb and index finger as he flipped it over and over, checking it. “Met any major trouble trying to retrieve it?”

Tara suddenly turned her head from where she’d been looking out the window sulking and shot Dick a look, silent anger in her eyes. And Dick stared back without so much as a wince.

He walked into the cabin and sat on Rose's right, just across from where Tara was. Dick took off the scabbard from his back and fastened his seat belt unhurriedly.

“Nothing worth mentioning,” Dick said without hesitation, leaving no room for objection.

“Very good,” his mentor replied, his voice distorted and echoing under the helmet’s built-in voice changer.

Tara turned away, her face full of animosity.

“After we get back,” Slade continued, “I expect a mission report from you, Renegade.”

“Got it, old man,” Dick said. Immediately after, he turned on the built-in multifunctional system on his wrist and quickly tapped his finger on the projection screen.

Slade raised his head and stared quietly at his apprentice through the eye hole on the left side of his helmet.

“How’s my gift to you?”

The sudden change in topic caught everyone off guard, and the atmosphere shifted inside the cabin. Suddenly no one was saying anything, even Tara and Rose's breathing became inaudible.

“It's going well, old man,” Dick made sure to answer him in the most neutral terms. He purposefully ignored his mentor, his gaze remaining on the projection.

Slade placed the chip back and closed the box in his hand. Then he crossed his fingers and folded his hands in front of him. He changed posture, staring at Dick calmly.

“I heard… that there was an escape attempt. By that stray cat of yours.”

“Not even a problem.” Dick sneered and briefly glanced up at Slade. “It was nothing more than an opportunity for exercise and stretching muscles.”

Slade continued to stare at him, his thought hidden behind his one good eye. Dick turned a blind eye to him, instead starting to type a text message onto the projection screen.

“So,” Slade finally said, and after putting away the box containing the chip, he picked up his computer and opened up a graph on the screen. “It's good that you are enjoying him. Your concentration and performance levels have increased exponentially in recent missions. I hope you’d continue to maintain it.”

“Naturally,” Dick replied, completing his message. He paused for a moment to confirm the text he wanted to send to Joe, pressing send after he was satisfied.

Dick turned off the projection and waited for a bit. Then, he called up the remote app again and adjusted the value of the vibrator, turning it up.

Slade's analysis technically wasn’t wrong. He just didn't understand how much Dick's successor meant to him.

He still had so many things to try, so many games to play. Jason Todd was a rare item that will never lose his interest.

Dick couldn't wait to get back.

+++

Long after he was free of the vibrator’s rage, Jason finally started to squirm around in his bonds, trying to free himself from the ropes.

The feeling was still unbearable, and the harness on his hips was still rubbing against his cock and sacks from time to time, the organ imprisoned within the cock ring painfully gorging with blood. Jason would still groan and toss about with the pleasure of the restraints. But his head gradually cleared a little, and he knew what he should try and find a way out of this.

Jason was Robin, and he knew what to do when he was tied up. Although Dick bound him in a complex and unusual way, his knots still had a lot in common with more typical rope forms. As long as Jason worked hard and was given enough time, he should still be able to get himself out of this predicament. (And, why didn’t he start doing this sooner? Was it because he hadn’t wanted to...) He _should—_

Not long after Jason started to mess with the knots the door of the room swung open. Jason's body straightened on instinct, his pupils shrank in fear.

But it was just Joey. Holding a mobile phone in his hand, the blond put it on the table next to the empty water bottle when he saw Jason, right beside the vibrator and the tube of lube.

The young man squatted down. After making sure that he was positioned so Jason could see him, Joey signed to him. Jason could see pity and regret in his eyes.

_Dick will be back soon. I have to do this. Sorry._

Jason couldn't understand what he was saying, his brain fogged over by a million different things. But it didn't take long before he was able to follow Joey’s train of thought, and he was instantly swallowed by panic and dread.

“No, Joey, _please—”_ Jason pleaded, but his words were immediately stuffed inside of his mouth when the spider gag was once again pushed between his teeth.

Joey fixed the instrument behind his head and stood up. He held the lubricant in one hand and the toy in the other, still vibrating at intervals in his palm.

“Uh-mph-” Jason struggled desperately and twisted his body, whimpers and spit both overflowing from his mouth. Jason tried to get up from the bed but only succeeded in his knees slipping uselessly on the sheet.

Joey stood still behind him. Jason could hear the sound of the gel squeezing out of the tube and smeared on the vibrator, making lewd gurgles and grunts. Then, the bullet-shaped object pressed at his rim, the slick lube cool and moist against his entrance.

Jason's body straightened, he let out a sob, crying as he buried his face in the bedsheet. Then, with a smooth and gentle push, the bullet vibrator was suddenly inserted into his tunnel, wet fingers inadvertently pressing near his hole. Jason screamed through his mouth. The head of the toy was pressing against his prostate, leaving only a piece of wire outside. The stimulation made Jason twitch with pain and excitement.

Right at this moment, the slowly-vibrating toy suddenly acted up with an aggressive wave of vibration. It seemed to know exactly when to turn up its values, torturing him as it raged inside of his passage.

Jason began to wriggle in his restraints. He screamed and groaned through the gag, convulsing under the torment from both the infinite pleasure and the pain that the cock ring was bringing him. His glans started to exude precum, and his hips swayed under the stimulation as it hung in the air. Saliva flowed out of him every time he groaned, and soon Jason's eyes were overflowing with tears. His mind was chaos, nothing but pleasure and pain left in there.

He couldn't remember when exactly Joey had left the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are all very appreciated!


	9. Retribution and Reunions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> But the fucker seemed to have read his mind. Dick didn’t bother with hurrying up. Instead, he said, “‘Please’, what, Robin? Tell me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All the usual warnings here, Non-con, underage, Dick being mean to Jason, etc. NSFW image at the end of the chapter.
> 
> The second half makes references to Teen Titans S04E13-The End Part III (the end of the Trigon arc). Not something you have to have seen to understand, but it could make a cool easter egg if you have.
> 
> Enjoy!

Jason's hands twitched in the ropes, hips spasming with the raging vibrator in his ass. His body extra-sensitive as he groaned out in long, drawn-out syllables.

Jason had been tied in this position for way too long and his legs were starting to feel numb. He started to fear that if Dick didn’t come back soon, his arms could end up with permanent nerve damage from the lack of circulation. His arms were sore and he wasn’t given nearly enough room to shift into a slightly better position. His current posture had his head dropped onto the bed, constricting his blood flow and making his brain feel woozy.

Yet Jason couldn’t really zone out from the terrible predicament. The constant torment on his prostate and the pressure at the base of his dick ensured that he stayed sober through the whole ordeal, living through every second of the torture and humiliation. Jason couldn't gather up enough strength to sniff back his tears, and they dropped freely onto the bed sheet beside his head, mixing with the saliva soaking through it. 

Jason didn't know how long Joey had been away. With his remaining consciousness, Jason tried to grasp onto the last words the older boy signed to him before he’d left. Dick was coming back. This meant that his long-suffering could finally come to an end. Jason couldn't help but bury his face in the bed, sobbing and whimpering. The idea of finally being able to get out of this was so enticing, so desirable to him at the moment that he couldn't even bear to think about it. His body was tossing and turning, his hips bouncing around with the vibration in his passage. Even the stings of the ropes against his skin were not enough to keep his mind away from the torture.

A hand was gently placed on his bare buttock. Jason hadn't heard anything before then. He didn't notice the sound of the door opening or the footsteps, only the slightly cool touch of the hand against his warm and flushing skin. He opened his eyes, trembling all over.

Initially, Jason couldn’t see anything through his teary eyes. Then suddenly the bullet-vibrator increased in both strength and speed, bringing out a whimper and making Jason twitch, the motion jostling the hand away from his hip.

The hand was gone. Jason's body eventually settled again. This time, he couldn't help but cry.

The shapes before him, blurred by his tears, shifted. The figure in front of him squatted by the bed. The hand started to stroke along the shape of his thigh, rubbing the tender flesh of his inner legs with a thumb. The feathery touch made every nerve in Jason’s body jump with anticipation. Jason couldn't help but cocking his hips up with a groan, hoping that this could get his confined dick a little bit of care after being neglected for so long.

“Acting like a bitch asking to be fucked,” the voice almost whispered in his ear. “Are you really so eager to offer yourself up?”

Jason could only object with a whine. He heard Dick chuckle, and it was this threatening, nasty laugh again. His hand left Jason's thigh. Jason blinked hard, trying to make his eyes clearer.

“Yet, you should know that the only way you are allowed to present yourself is to me,” the older boy said.

A finger hooked onto the ring sitting at the base of his penis and gently pulled it off. Jason sighed. There was an instant relief on his congested cock, even though the rest of his discomfort remained. The cock ring passed through his glans finally, before Jason heard it landing on the bed beside him.

Then, Jason was finally able to see clearly. There he saw Dick Grayson.

The young man wasn’t wearing his Renegade uniform. The bastard had changed his clothes at some point. He was now wearing a casual sweater and black corduroy pants, with the cuffs of his top rolled above his elbows, revealing his nicely shaped forearms. His head tilted slightly to one side, his eyes narrowed with interest, and the creasing of his under eyes betrayed the delight he was feeling.

This bastard was happy about this. The way he looked at Jason and how his eyes were filled with amusement. Jason stared at him shamefully and struggled a little in his restraints. The only thing he wanted right now was for Dick to stop staring at him like some kind of entertainment and help him. Jason didn't want this—he never wanted this—but he needed Dick. He needed him to help him out of this torment. Hadn't Jason been punished enough? 

“I hope you had fun when I was away,” his predecessor said. “I certainly did. It’s a shame that I couldn’t be here the entire time, listening to you moaning and squealing like a whore.”

“Hmmph-” Jason tried to retort, but he briefly forgot about the metal frame in his mouth. His effort only allowed more saliva to flow and accumulate on the sheet.

Dick turned around, pulled a chair towards the bed, and sat down. He crossed his legs, folding his hands in front of him. His gaze was dark, a sinister emotion hidden underneath, making Jason’s spine tingle with fear.

_No, don't just sit there and watch,_ Jason thought desperately. Take out the damn phone and stop the fucking toy, or just take the whole thing out, get him out of the ropes that was chaffing his skin. Stop looking at him, come and help… Take him, use him, fuck his brains out, whatever, as long as he could be out of this predicament. Jason—

_Jason knew he’d been wrong to run._

And Dick just sat there with a muddled light in his eyes. Jason missed when, but he somehow already had his phone out, the app controlling the toy was lit up on screen. Jason cocked his head towards him and saw the former Robin’s thumb hovering on top of the key that would release him, only one tap away. But, instead of doing that, Dick was staring at Jason instead, the light in his eyes undecipherable. 

“The Titans want to take you back,” Dick said suddenly. 

Jason whined. There was only the sound of a pulse beating in his head. The buzzing toy in his passage shot out an electric current from the sensitive spot, and a hellish tingle radiated out and climbed onto his limbs, his fingers and toes stretched and flexed with the stimulation. He couldn’t understand what Dick was saying.

Dick continued, “They can't have you now, Robin. You don't belong to them anymore.”

His tone was so calm, and while Jason was still racking his brain trying to figure out what he meant, Dick stood up from his chair again.

Jason's breathing almost stopped. He felt Dick leaning forward from behind him, his clothes rustling, the fabric of his sweater and corduroy pants rubbing against his bare buttocks, his bulging crotch resting in the gap between Jason's cheeks—legs forced apart by the ropes. Jason realized in a panic the penis under Dick’s trouser had become rock-hard, and the organ was pressing against Jason's hole, the rough cloth rubbing his delicate skin.

He couldn't help curling up and groaning, but this only prompted the older boy to lean forth, even more, knocking Jason’s suspended body forward. Dick's erection bumped the vibrator deeper into Jason’s passage and made it hit his already over-stimulated prostate, vibrating violently against the sensitive bundle of nerves. Jason's body convulsed, his limbs twitched, his hips jolted a few times along with the toy’s beat of vibration, and a few puppy-like whimpers came out of his forced-open lips.

Dick reached forward, his phone in hand. A video file was playing on the screen.

Jason blinked and sniffed a few times to swallow his tears. It took a few seconds for him to understand what was on the screen.

Dick upped the volume and the sound of a promiscuous moan came out of the speakers. 

The footage playing on the small screen was a video taken from this very room using one of the hidden cameras in the ceiling. Jason could see on the screen a teenage boy's naked form tossing and turning, his pale skin decorated with red ropes, his struggles causing reddish marks forming on his body. His ass was facing the camera, and his congested penis and twitching hole on clear display between his legs, forced open by the ropes. The wire protruding from his hole shook with the twitching of his hips and futilely struggling legs, all the while he moaned like a slut, obscene and lewd.

Jason turned his head away on instinct, but soon he felt fingers in his hair, pulling at his roots and forcing his head back to look. With a sob—partly due to the shame and partly due to the pain on his scalp—Jason tightly screwed his eyelids shut, cutting off the image. His own moans and screams kept coming out of the speaker though, and Jason was forced to listen.

“Don't turn away,” Dick’s body pressed against Jason's side, almost holding his trembling form in his arm. He said in his ear, “Don’t you dare close your eyes. I need you to be quiet, watch and listen. Know that when I was fighting the Titans, you were doing this.”

It was because of you, Jason wanted to say. _If it wasn't because Deathstroke wanted to please you, I’d still be at home, patrolling with Bruce, being reprimanded by Alfred for sleeping too late, and with the Titans... the Titans…_

Jason kept his eyes shut, determined to not give Dick even the slightest of satisfactions. But Dick spoke again. This time, his voice rose, sounding infinitely more blunt and cold.

“Did you really think you could become a member of the Titans, and that I’d let you? Take in how it feels to be left out. What do you have that you think is worth saving?” Dick said, an arm reached over Jason’s bound arms and gently wrapped around his body, holding him almost possessively. The texture of his sweater felt itchy on Jason’s skin, the amount of strength he put in his limb made it hard to breathe through his lungs. “You are mine, Robin. I want you to remember this.”

Jason decided that he wouldn’t accept this. There was a sudden burst of adrenaline filling his veins, and he felt a wave of strength born from resentment and righteous indignation pouring into his limbs, and he started to struggle with all his strength.

Dick’s arm was jostled away. He let go of him and stepped back, taking his phone with him. The recording kept playing on screen, Jason's lewd screams spilling out of the speakers.

Jason cast a sharp look at Dick, having to do this with the side of his face pressed onto the bed. He exhaled from his nostrils like a provoked bull. If he hadn't been tied up, Jason must have already jumped onto his awful predecessor and punched him. It didn’t matter whether Jason would probably be subdued or whether Dick would dodge his attacks with ease if he really did it, Jason wouldn’t go down without a fight. He had too much hidden pain and anger to be resolved.

Jason tried to speak, but the words were obscured by the gag in his mouth. The only thing that came out were angry but inarticulate murmurs, accompanied by the occasional profanity that could be vaguely picked up in intermittent words and syllables. Dick’s eyes narrow. It was a look filled with danger, indicating that Jason was about to dip his toe into a pool of lava.

But Jason didn’t even care. He didn't care if Dick had more punishment in store for him. He didn't care that the video playing on-screen in his predecessor's hand could make the perfect blackmail material. He didn't even care that Dick could send the proof of his shame to the Titans or even to Bruce, using the footage as a bargaining chip to control him. At this moment, the only thing Jason cared about was that he had had enough.

“Keep struggling, I like it when you fight back,” Dick said, suddenly raising the corner of his mouth and smiled. His smirk didn’t reach his eyes. “But right now, shut the fuck. Up. Listen closely, because I have something to ask you.”

He just uttered a threat like this while sporting a smile. Jason shuddered. It was not even the first time he got a glimpse of Dick’s anger, but he felt suffocated by the way his predecessor said these words without even an inkling of a joke.

Jason continued to glare at Dick, trying to communicate his hatred through his eyes. Dick stared back. When he did make a move, it wasn’t to speak, like what Jason was expecting. Without breaking his eye contact, Dick presented the screen again. On it was Jason’s own naked twisting and struggling form in bondage, and his cries grew louder when Dick started tuning up the audio.

The sound of Jason's moans poured forth from the speaker. It went up and down like waves, like the sounds that stars in porn made.

Jason’s glare didn’t falter, but at one point his body started to tremble. Dick held the phone in front of him and let both the sound and the video play, staring back at Jason in a silent provocation.

‘ _Uh...ah! Ahhh! Hmm~’_

The figure twisted promiscuously on the screen, his pale ass swinging in the air. His limbs moved around in their restraints, the moans he made almost sounded painful.

Jason's eyes started to widen and his will wavered as the seconds ticked by. There’s no way Dick could miss the way he was trembling now. He was shaking so badly, like a fallen leaf in the wind.

‘ _Ugh-woo woo-ah~!’_ In the video, the bound boy was trying to speak through his gag: ’ _Ro-Ro-Uh-Dick-’_

Then there were some intermittent words. Things that sounded suspiciously like _Robin, please,_ and so on. Trying to make out these words from his gagged mouth was difficult. The boy in the video was mumbling with desperation, as if these were the only words that could help him out of his predicament.

Dick waited until a look of horror climbed onto Jason's face before he gently and calmly put the phone on the nightstand. Jason's face turned pale.

“What were you thinking, Robin?” Dick asked. “When you were calling your predecessor's name? Tell me, baby.”

Jason couldn't stop his body from shaking. When Dick sat gently next to him, he tried to stretch the distance between them by crawling backward with his knees. Dick's fingers reached under the rope harness on his hips and pulled him back effortlessly. The rope rubbed against his skin, making the pinkish skin on his hips and his cheeks appear even redder. Jason yelped, his voice filled with wetness.

Then Dick was touching him again. He avoided Jason’s erection at first, instead only satisfying his own needs and curiosities. Dick put his hands on Jason's ass cheeks and squeezed hard, letting their full volume bunch up between his digits and making the boy cry out in pain. Dick gently squeezed his ass, pressing and playing the cheeks with his hands, before spreading them open to reveal the hole between them, twitching and shrinking in anticipation. 

Jason shook, wet sobs gushing out from deep within his throat.

“Uh-ng-” he pleaded through his mouth in incomprehensible words, “ng—”

Dick ignored him. His gaze was focusing on Jason’s hole and the wire protruding out.

“Hush,” he shushed him, then said, “Shall we give the cameras a more unique angle to film?”

Dick shifted, but kept his grasp on Jason’s ass, spreading the cheeks and revealing his hole, giving the hidden ceiling cameras a better angle. Dick gently poked at the hole, pressing the creases surrounding the wire. Jason made more whimpers each time he applied pressure.

Dick did this for a while, and then, ignoring the kitten-like moans Jason made, he picked up the phone again. This time he turned on the phone’s camera and quickly snapped a few photos. At the same time, he used one of his index fingers to stretch the entrance open, revealing the pinkish tender inner walls of Jason’s passage. 

After doing this, Dick let go of Jason's ass, letting his cheeks bounce back to their original positions. Dick set the phone camera to record, keeping his eyes on the screen. Then, his palm suddenly fell on one of Jason’s ass cheeks, making him jump suddenly, gasping. Dick waited until the cheek stopped bouncing around before he slapped the other side as well. A crisp sound echoed.

“Dee-” Jason cried and begged, his voice muffled by the gag.

“Stay like this,” Dick said absentmindedly. Then he shifted into a more comfortable position to make sure that the camera was shooting from the best angle, squeezing Jason's sacks a little with his fingers. Jason screamed and his hips jumped.

Dick's fingers began to stroke down Jason's side. His movements were slow to ensure that the phone was getting a good view. Jason's body trembled under his touch.

“Tell me,” Dick said, deliberately speaking up for the phone's recorder, “What were you fantasizing about, Robin? What do you want your former Robin to do to you?”

While talking, Dick reached out to the back of Jason's head and undid the clasp of the gag with one hand. He nudged it a few times, loosened the metal frame from between Jason's teeth, and tore it off.

“What were you thinking, Little Wing?” Dick asked, briefly looking up from the phone to meet Jason’s eyes. “You called out his name during punishment, what did you want him to do to you? Did you want him to ravage you, or save you?”

“No-” Jason sobbed. His jaw was still sore after the gag was taken out, and his voice was hoarse from disuse. He buried his face in the sheets shamefully and sobbed. “Please-”

Dick's hand found Jason's cock again. His knuckles slid gently along the shaft, causing Jason to moan and shudder. His dick had become too congested for him to bear.

“You are so hard that you are leaking, Robin,” Dick's fingers gently wiped the reddish-purplish head of Jason's penis, picking up some clear liquid. Then, he reached under Jason's body again and gently squeezed the bud on one side. Jason yelped, and his nipples became erect and bloodshot from the teasing. Dick let go before applying pressure again, doing it time and time again until the nipple was like a ripe fruit flushing a vibrant color. The pain was unbearable.

“This thing has become so ripe and ready for me.” Dick hummed softly and said into the phone's microphone, “We’ll have to get some clips for them. Two for your nipples and four for your balls. I’ll have to ensure that every part of you will be taken care of.”

“Don’t-” Jason sobbed, his body shook. “Please, Dick—”

“What do you mean by ‘don’t’, Robin?” Dick asked softly, his smooth timbre hiding his aggressive desires. “When you first stole my tool and made your escape, you should have known that you’ll have to face the consequences, don't you?”

Jason didn't know how to answer this, so he decided on avoidance by keeping his eyes shut. He screwed his eyelids shut and buried his face in the soaked sheet. He continued to whimper despite trying to bite his lip to silence himself, more tears were streaming down his face.

Suddenly, Jason felt a hand reaching out in front of him. A finger flicked his forehead, using strong enough force to make him feel pain.

Jason couldn't hold back a yelp. He opened his eyes and saw Dick’s hand in front of him, his thumb and his middle and index fingers covered in a transparent layer of precum.

“Clean it up, Robin,” Dick said. “Lick your filth off my hand, and I will take the toy out. Move fast. Let your senior show you how he'll take care of you.”

There was a part of him that desperately wanted to resist. But the temptation of being finally free from the vibrator was just too strong. Jason wanted more than ever for the torture device to be taken out. So he slowly opened his mouth—his sore jaw trembling—and took all three of Dick’s digits into his mouth.

There was nothing more humiliating than having to clean his own fluid off of another person. It tasted a bit salty and ran on the tongue. He lapped reluctantly at first, before Dick unceremoniously stuck all three digits straight into his throat. Jason convulsed, choking through the fingers. Dick's fingers churned in his mouth as if he was trying to squeeze more sweet whimpers out of him.

“Keep on licking, baby,” Dick said in a fake tone of pity. “It’ll make it easier for me to fuck you later. If you don't want to suffer too much for it, just lick them _hard.”_

Jason let out a sob. He didn't even consider what his predecessor wanted to do afterward. He never had the chance to consider how he’d be… be _raped_ again.

Dick dragged his fingers out of Jason’s mouth, bringing with them a sticky, silvery thread of saliva. Then, with the same hand, he gently stroked Jason's hair a few times, keeping his fingers raised so as to not get spit on him. 

_It was as gentle as the way executioners helped their victims lay down with their necks out before they chopped off their heads._ Jason thought sarcastically, his thoughts too muddled by the stimulation on his body for him to form anything more coherent than that.

The hand was gone for a bit. Dick kept holding out his phone, recording the entire time as he stood behind Jason again. Something poked around his hole lightly, then Jason felt a gentle tug on the vibrator’s wire. The wire was pulled a few times before it was finally dragged out of his ass, bringing the bullet vibrator with it.

Jason let out a groan involuntarily, his body visibly relaxing. The toy, still vibrating, was thrown on the bed beside him. It kept buzzing on the sheet.

Then, Jason gasped. His body suddenly arched and his toes contracted. A saliva-coated finger intruded his hole without warning, making a loud _schlick_ as it did so.

“Hmm…” Jason groaned, his strained body started to tremble again. The finger was covered with spit, feeling cool against his warm entrance and inner walls as it started to fuck in and out of his hole, making obscene wet _gurgles_ and _grunts._

“Enjoying this?” The older boy asked from behind him, jerking a second finger inside until the two were side by side in his hole. He pushed them deeper into Jason’s tunnel. Jason gasped, then whimpers, when those fingers hit a sensitive spot inside.

“Pl-please-” he sobbed, trying to stop crying long enough to speak, “please- Di-Dick- let me-”

“Let you do what? Tell me, Robin,” Dick said, repeatedly thrusting his fingers into Jason's body. Jason's hips twitched and convulsed with every intrusion, but he didn’t have much space to move away to, hung with ropes the way he did. 

“Let- let me- let me cum-”

Dick hummed absentmindedly. He pressed the third finger into Jason before starting to spread them out, slowly expanding and preparing Jason’s entrance.

“I only promised you that I’d take the toy out,” Dick replied coldly, “but I did _not_ say you’ll get your release so quickly. Remember, Robin, this is your punishment, not a reward. It shouldn’t make you feel _good.”_

The panic that came with the sudden realization made Jason stop breathing for a moment. He finally let out a gasp after a few seconds, right before Dick finished preparing him, retrieving his finger with a wet _pop._

Jason heard something rustle behind him. Dick took the phone in one hand to keep recording before fumbling with his fly. It took a lot longer than usual when he only had one free hand to use. When he finally finished, Jason could almost _hear_ the sound of his erection popping out of his pants.

The lube was retrieved from the nightstands beside Jason’s head and the lid popped open. Dick started slapping the liquid onto his penis.

Jason shook while listening to this, giving in to his coming fate as Dick smeared more and more of the stuff onto himself. His shoulders trembled as he sobbed. Dick finished and placed the head of his congested cock at Jason’s entrance, making his body jump as Jason tried to sniff back more snot and tears.

A hand briefly stroked Jason's thigh, fingers running back and forth on the skin, feeling the curves of his muscles.

“Don't get me wrong, Little Wing,” Dick said. “I'm not angry. It’s good that you called my name. You should feel lucky that it wasn’t someone else’s.”

Jason sniffed before Dick spread his cheeks again, revealing his hole and taking in the lewd scenery with his phone. 

“Dick, please-” Jason begged, feeling tormented by how long Dick was taking. No, he didn’t want to be violated even in the slightest, but the past few hours had been intolerable. He felt like he was being pushed over the edge, to a point where he was willing to say or do anything, whether how degrading they might be. As long as he got to ejaculate, even if that meant he had to beg for Dick to fuck him.

But the fucker seemed to have read his mind. Dick didn’t bother with hurrying up. Instead, he said, “‘Please’, what, Robin? Tell me.”

“I-” Jason gritted his teeth in shame and hid his face, his entire body covered by a flush of rosiness all over the skin. Behind him, Dick chuckled.

“Don't act as if you can't bear it anymore, brat,” Dick sneered. “Don't think I didn't know what Joey did, that he took pity on you when I was away, allowing you some time to catch your breath.”

Jason tensed from these words, arms stretching in their restraints, the ropes tightening over his skin. He took a deep breath, but it seemed to get stuck in his throat.

“What? Did you really think I don’t know? I’m giving you a chance to ask for your fantasies to come true, you sad excuse of a replacement,” Dick said. “Don’t waste the opportunity. Tell me what you really want to tell me. Tell me your deepest thoughts and dirtiest desires. When you called my name, what did you want me to do to you?”

A low groan escaped Jason’s throat as he trembled. He shut his eyes, images of him touching himself in Wayne manor briefly flashed before his eyes. The former Robin’s flying cloak, his ropes and handcuffs. How in those fantasies Dick used to spread his legs with his knees. His predecessor’s lips on Jason’s body, tracing his muscles with his mouth, and when he finally entered into him he held him close and said words that made his body turn boneless, words of praise. Jason’s _name._

_You won’t be going back now._ Renegade’s voice suddenly rang in Jason’s ears, instantly breaking the illusion he had about his Robin. _Because you are nothing but a whore now, Robin, showing your ass to your predecessor, can’t wait to be fucked and bred like a bitch. Do you really think Bruce and the Titans will accept you back?_

“Speak up, Robin,” Dick's voice crudely broke Jason’s thoughts. “Come and ask for it, come and beg me. Earn your release with your sincerity.”

Jason pressed his face into the sheet, hoping it could hide his blush. Some unintelligible muttering came out of his lips.

“Robin? I can't hear you,” Dick said.

Jason sobbed, his shoulders going stiff like stone. The thought of having to beg for something he didn’t even want made his throat dry and his mouth filled with bitterness.

_But you do want it, don't you? You are a slut just like Dick said, wanting to be fucked and used by him. You just haven’t realized it yet._

Either way, it wouldn’t make much of a difference, would it?

“Please-please fuck me,” Jason said, almost crying.

Behind him, Dick hummed softly.

“As I expected,” he said, “your ‘big brother’ will take care of you from here, little robin.”

Dick’s hand withdrew to hold his erection. He kept the phone in one hand and his penis in the other as he slowly pushed the head into Jason’s hole.

It wasn’t too hard to bear for the first second. But then the searing pain came.

Jason yelped, his body arched in the greatest possible way with the ropes restraining it, trying to relieve the pain. It was useless. Dick simply pushed forward, following Jason and every movement he made. Dick was slow at first, but he went faster when he was halfway in, and pushed his cocked past Jason’s tight entrance and all the way into his passage with one stroke.

Jason's hisses gradually turned into a gurgling sob. He pressed his head downward and rubbed his face into the sheet again, his shoulders trembling as he cried.

Dick slowly pulled out, making a lewd, slick, sound, until only the head remained within Jason’s entrance. Then, with another push, he went in again, this time driving in deeper than before.

Jason's moans and screams were cut off by the sudden thrust, his arms tightening behind him. He felt wobbly caught between pain and extreme pleasure, his body spasmed and his hips convulsed. Dick was deliberately tilting his cock upwards, avoiding Jason’s prostate on purpose. But his dick was still large enough to fill Jason up to the brim, unwittingly touching the sensitive spot once in a while, stimulating the bundle of nerves. Jason whimpered, the sound muffled by the bed.

Dick's following actions were also deliberately done with the goal of denying Jason satisfaction. He started to drive into him, pushing Jason forward with the grumbling sound of their intercourse, making it so the boy’s forehead was almost smashed into the headboard with each push, the metal ring hanging above jingling. Dick was looking into the phone, unhurriedly urging himself closer and closer to his climax. His hips made flowing motions in wave-like curves as he thrust, almost like a practiced dance.

Jason barked like a puppy, sobbing.

“Dee- Dick- Ah! -Ah~!” He said between thrusts, interrupted in every syllable. “Please- just let me- let me- cum!”

Dick stared at his screen, watched as the ropes slid on Jason’s body when he was hit again and again, and admired the red marks left by them. He snorted, absent-mindedly.

“You will, Robin,” Dick replied, “keep calling my name. Louder, Robin, I want to get the audio on recording too.”

Jason's body was shaking. Dick crashed into him again, each time tearing him apart and filling him, but he never hit the sensitive spot where it needed the most attention. It was torturous, Jason being tempted at the edge of climax, but he couldn't cross over.

“This is punishment, remember?” Dick said, and Jason only replied with his sobs and moans.

His predecessors cared little to nothing about Jason’s comforts now. He was now fucking him with full force, satisfying himself and his desires alone. Dick started to moan himself, his cock swelling and filling Jason up, even more, precum leaking and lubing up the entrance.

“Hmm-” Jason groaned, rubbing his face into the bed.

Jason started to cum. It flew slowly, dripping and soiling the sheet. His climax came only moments later, not as satisfying as it should have felt after being edged for so long. The remaining cum leaked like a stream.

Jason’s hips convulsed a few times in beat with his orgasm, his hole twitched around Dick’s cock in the aftershock. Then his body limped, his head hung on the bed, sweat running down his hair. Jason gasped and sobbed, out of breath.

Dick tilted his chin up and groaned softly, lost in the excitement of Jason's orgasm. He sped up, thrusting into Jason again and again, approaching the deepest reaches every time. He had stopped caring about Jason at all. The boy’s motionless form allowed Dick to do whatever he wanted, body bumped forward and moans cut off by each hit. Dick kept it up until his primitive senses took him over the edge. Dick trembled a few times during his orgasm, the pressure built up on his glans bursting with thick cum, unloading it deep into Jason’s passage.

The orgasm had Dick finish with his body relaxing forward until his side was pressed against the hanging ropes and the ring.

Dick didn't finish so soon, instead he took some time to finish filming and press the termination key with his thumb. He waited until the ring on the screen stopped spinning before he threw the phone back onto the nightstand.

“Good work, Little Wing,” Dick said. He rested for a while, immersed in the pleasure of the climax.

Jason pursed his lips and forced himself not to cry, all his righteous anger turning into hiccups in his chest. He wasn’t released from his bondage immediately, and it wasn’t until a few minutes later that Dick finally raised his head lazily from his position.

He began to undo the knots harnessing Jason’s hips, carrying out the action without a word. 

Jason let out a sob, his body trembling. He remained motionless, passively allowing Dick to untie his hips and arms from the restraints, liberating his flushing body, leaving behind red marks on his arms and ass. Then Dick placed his hands on the sides of Jason's hips and dragged him back, while Jason acted like a puppet, allowing this without resistance. Finally, Dick's crotch was pressed against Jason's ass, his cock still inside of him as he dragged him to the foot of the bed. Dick folded Jason’s legs so he could untie the ropes that bound his ankles.

Dick never pulled out of Jason’s body when he was doing this. He finally threw the ropes onto the ground after he’s done, deciding to deal with it later.

Stroking Jason’s marked flesh, Dick admired the piece of artwork he created. Stopping on a print that looked particularly painful, Dick poked at it, satisfying himself with the pained hisses Jason made.

There was a small section of the bed sheet that was soiled by spit and tears, but the sheet was big enough that it wouldn’t matter in a short period. Dick spread the unsoiled half on the bed and lied down with the boy's trembling form in his arms, his cock inside Jason’s ass. With the boy’s every hurried gasp, his every sob, and every time that he twisted his body from discomfort, his hole would squeeze Dick’s penis unintentionally, the warmth of his passage carrying over to him.

Dick buried his face in the back of Jason's neck and took a deep breath, his long hair falling on the boy's shoulder.

“Dick-” Jason whined, a gurgling, wet sound in his voice.

“Shhh,” Dick answered impatiently, already shutting his eyes. Between the mission and the after-work entertainment, he seemed to be spent. “You took the punishment well, sweetheart. Now rest well."

Jason opened his mouth, wanting to protest. He had too much he wanted to say or things to complain about. But Jason wasn’t sure if it mattered. His hole was stretched open uncomfortably, but he couldn't really complain about it. It would only make Dick treat him worse. It’d just be more things that his predecessor could use against him.

This shouldn’t feel good, after all. This was meant to make him feel violated and punished. Dick’s cock inside him was like a tether, reminding him of the consequences of his disobedience. Dick wanted him to have those feelings because _Jason shouldn't have run._

Jason curled up in Dick's arms, his knees close to his chest. He forced himself not to cry, only allowing a small whimper to rumble from his chest.

A hand stretched out from behind him, wiping away a tear from his eyes.

“Crying again so soon, Robin?” Dick said. With his lips pressed against Jason's shoulder, he pecked his skin and traced all the way up, following the curve of his neck, mouth staying as long as it could to plant his marks. “What a sad little boy you are.”

Jason covered his mouth with his hands, hiccups lodged in his throat.

Jason finally accepted the fact that he couldn’t actually change to a more comfortable position. He started to force his stiff body to relax as Dick’s breathing evened out. His head hung over Jason's neck, the feathery touch of his long hair brushing his skin.

Jason's eyelids started to feel heavy. Beside him, Dick began to snore softly. Sniffing, Jason resigned himself to the confines of his predecessor’s arms and tried to fall asleep.

_There was no wind._

_There wasn’t any distinction between above and below. It seemed that gravity itself was nothing but a relative concept. There were no environmental noises like the types one would find in reality. Any sounds that existed here were uncannily crisp and clear, like they passed through a vacuum through buzzing magic to reach the ears._

_Dick lazily cracked his eyes open._

_He was standing on top of a huge floating rock as he looked up at the drifting islands, their outlines decorating an eternal night._

_It was a familiar place with a familiar scent. There was a kind of dark magic not from this world creaking in the air, its energy vibrating and beating at the islands. Various things were planted on them, each piece of scenery seemed to exist within its own bubble of reality. Pink cherry blossoms; a double-faced statue made from stone, and a huge maze made of rocks._

_Something flew over his head. A black bird croaked an ear-piercing call from its teeth-filled beak. Dick's gaze followed it, his eyes narrowing slightly under the white lenses of his mask to meet its two pairs of scarlet eyes._

_It's fascinating. That he hadn't been to this place even once, yet he somehow knew exactly where he was from a single glance._

_The four-eyed raven started to hover over his head, croaking non-stop. Dick looked down to inspect himself, eyes moving from his gloved hands to the arms covered with silver armors, to his torso, wearing his familiar uniform split down the middle with black on one side and orange on the other, a silver "R" on his left chest._

_He dropped his hands and looked up again. The nosy little raven now had company, a few more four-eyed birds just like it, as they hovered above him, wailing, sounding more like demons than birds. They gathered, starting from a countable few to a dozen in number, they started to form a black vortex, gathering like a cloud of smoke against the black sky._

_This time Dick noticed something in the distance. Above a floating island, with legs folded in a lotus position for meditation and dark blue cloaking draping over her shoulders, was exactly the person Dick expected to see._

_Dick turned around and started to walk away somewhat hastily. A familiar, hoarse voice sounded from behind him._

“ _Renegade!”_

_The voice was raised high, mixed with a trace of hurriedness that was rarely heard from its owner. The sound buzzed in his ears and made him shudder with delight. Dick shut his eyes and breathed through his nose, letting himself immerse in the memories the voice brought him._

_He turned around and watched as the cloaked girl floated towards him. She had her hood on, its shadow hiding most of her face._

_The girl's toes lightly touched the stone ground of the island, and her cloak seemed to spread and float in this zero-gravity space without any wind. She landed gracefully in a manner familiar to him. Dick stared at her with a slight frown. Suddenly, his face felt lighter. His domino mask turned down its transparency until it vanished completely._

_The girl came to him, looking up at his maskless face with eyes deep like a bottomless pool of water. There was no shock upon seeing his uncovered features, only an air of knowledge. As if she’d known_ from the beginning.

“ _Richard,” she said. More like a statement than anything else. “It really_ is _you. You really_ are _Renegade.”_

“ _Raven,” Dick returned with his own statement, tone neutral and face emotionless._

_Then both of them fell silent. No one spoke for a long time, as if they were swallowed by their memories of each other._

Before Dick's eyes, he briefly saw a team of five happy and naive teenagers. Garfield, smiling with delight; Victor with his catchphrase; Rave with her indifferent eyes, and Kori, with her bell-like laughter… Then, Dick himself, with his much younger voice, a voice that hadn’t quite gone through puberty, shouting, “Titans, together!”

A sky tainted red, an armageddon brought on by Trigon. How sad Raven looked when she stared up at him, right before she walked onto the platform to become the doorway that her demonic father had designed for her to be. The little pieces of rock falling from Dick’s feet as he climbed the steep cliff to find a lost teammate…

_They had that silent tacit understanding, one that allowed them to communicate even without speaking a word, sizzling all around them like static electricity. Dick didn't know what came to Raven's mind at that moment. In her memories, was she seeing him as a respectable leader for the Teen Titans; or was he the fallen hero, howling like a demon with Kori’s dead body limp in his arms._

_A distant sound of footsteps on the rocky ground aroused him. Dick blinked and looked into the distance. There, a little girl in a white hooded cloak was hiding behind a rock as she peeped out. Her form looked like a projection, a looming mirage of a girl. The thinnest part of her cloak was almost translucent._

_"That you?" Dick asked, motioning with his chin._

_Raven didn't follow his gaze. Her dark blue eyes locked with Dick's, her calm voice speaking up with a trace of sadness._

“ _It’s the person I used to be.”_

“ _Why?” Dick smiled. “Trying to bring out your memories to awaken the good in me, to remind me of the good old time?”_

_Raven reached out and peeled the hood off of her head._

“ _These are not my memories, Richard,” she said, meeting his gaze. “They are yours.”_

_The girl's face looked more mature than it had been five years ago, the baby fat signature to one’s teenage years faded from her. Now, Dick saw a beautiful but constricted young woman with delicate features and intelligent eyes. A clean face, without a trace of unnatural embellishment, and her familiar head of reserved dark, short, hair. Raven said, "This is your dream, Richard. I extracted these memories from your subconscious with my powers."_

_Dick stopped. Behind Raven, in the distance, another figure appeared beside the ghostly little girl. It was Dick himself, a younger version of him still wearing Robin's uniform, lowering his head and negotiating with the shivering child hiding behind a rock. The younger Raven looked so small, like she was no more than seven or eight years old. She was somehow de-aged into a younger version of herself after Trigon was done with her. And Robin—Dick—their leader, had accepted the task of finding her and bringing her back home. She didn't trust him at first, but he seemed patient._

“ _You saved me, Richard. Do you remember?” Raven's voice spoke like an echo in the valley. "You saved all of us. If you didn't insist on finding me, Trigon would have destroyed the world. It was because you trusted me, because of your unshakeable will. It was your will that had inspired and changed me, it was that which gave me the power to defeat my father."_

_In the distance, the little girl finally crawled out of the shadows of the rocks. Robin bent over and picked her up. He lifted her so she was clinging onto his back and began to climb onto a nearby cliff._

“ _And I did it with Slade's help,” Dick said._

“ _You only worked with Deathstroke under your conditions, not his.”_

“ _How do you know that I’m working for him under his conditions now, and not under my own?”_

“ _We miss you, Richard,” Raven suddenly changed the subject, catching Dick by surprise. “How have you been all these years?”_

_Dick glanced at her, keeping his eyes unreadable, even though he knew that nothing could fool her. Then he began to pace lightly, kicking some rocks on the ground with the toe of his armored boot, listening to them making sharp, unnatural clicking sounds. There were no echoes in a dream._

“ _Oh, you know.” He shrugged. “Training and fighting. Leading a team. Going on missions. Avenging some old friends.”_

_Raven stood still. She spoke up, voice hollow._

“ _After you left, Speedy joined us, and then Wonder Girl,” she said. “She was also upset with your disappearance.”_

“ _I know. Donna and I had been friends for years, starting when I still lived in Wayne Manor.”_

“ _I should have guessed it was you a long time ago, Richard,” Raven said. “You knew us so well, knew our weaknesses and our strengths like the back of your hand. That's why you’d always gotten the upper hand on us when Defiance and the Titans clashed.”_

_Dick looked back and displayed her his classic cool boy smirk. A smirk that belonged only to her and their friends. Dick hardly made relaxed expressions like this after he’d left to join Slade. It’s as if he’d grown out of it. It’s as if Kori’s death had changed him from a boy to a man over a single night._

“ _There was a reason that you’d chosen me as your leader, Raven,” Dick smiled. “I know everybody's strengths and weaknesses like they are drilled into my head.”_

“ _You went and sought out Slade after you left,” Raven stated. “Why, Richard? Kori's death was a big blow to you, I understand. It was to all of us. But why go and seek out Deathstroke? We could’ve defeated Komand’r together. Could’ve sent her back to the alien prison where she escaped from. Was her death really so important to you that you had to sell your soul to our biggest enemy?”_

“ _If we did, she’d be out of jail one day, Raven,” Dick said coldly, hatred permeating every word. “What I wanted was for her heart to stop beating._ Forever.”

_Raven sighed._

“ _The only thing we knew was that Batman contacted us after a few months. He told us to stop wondering about your whereabouts. To give up on finding what had become of you.”_

_Dick smiled again._

“ _The old Bat did like to be mysterious, you know. He knew where I was, but he didn’t want the scandal to spread among the masks."_

“ _But the news of Blackfire’s death did reach us,” Raven continued, “I had my doubt even then. Only you could have done it... it had to be your handiwork. But we didn't have enough of a lead for us to follow. Whatever Deathstroke—or Batman—had taught you, you knew to cover your tracks well.”_

“ _It was indeed my work,” Dick spoke, raising his voice and jumping straight to the point, not bothering with dancing around the subject. “Me, and my new team. Blackfire had asked for this, Raven. She should’ve seen this coming when she’d murdered Kori by being a cheating_ scum.”

_Raven was silent for a moment. She averted her eyes, and when she did speak, there was a trace of caution in her voice._

“ _Richard,” she asked, a little reluctantly, “is… Robin with you?”_

_Dick fell silent._

_He looked at her through cold eyes. All kinds of emotions released from him—from hatred, to regret, to longing—his mixed feelings spilled force like the colors of paint tangling and mixing in a draining sink._

“ _Don't use that title on him,” Dick answered her. His tone was chilling as he hissed through his teeth, “That_ brat _is not Robin.”_

_The one who took his title and his friends from him. Dick had never accepted the boy as his successor. He was not worthy of it. But, perhaps, if Dick had to speak honestly, it was more because he believed that there could only be one Robin in the world._

“ _That kid doesn't deserve the title, Raven,” Dick continued. “I thought you—my teammate and friend—would have been more likely to respect my legacy.”_

_Even if it wasn’t all their fault. It was Bruce's fault too, for giving Robin to someone else. It was also Jason Todd's fault. (And Dick's own fault, too.) It was the fault of a lot of people._

“ _So he_ is _with you, isn’t he?” Raven paused, thinking for a little. Then she hesitated and said, “Is he- alright? After he was taken away, what did your- what did Slade do to him? Did he hurt him?”_

_She spoke Slade's name, not Dick's. Even after what had happened, after five years... after everything that she knew Renegade had done, she still put her trust in him unconditionally._

_Dick didn't know whether to pity them or to pity their new Robin._

“ _Richard,” Raven asked, “please tell me he's alright.”_

_Dick's chin lifted, his eyes playfully narrowed. A cruel smile appeared on his face._

“ _He's all right,” he lied, without skipping a breath._

“ _Richard,” Raven repeated. There was a slight tension in her voice and on her face, her panic hidden just beneath the surface. Dick knew where the anxiety came from._

_For the past week, he had seen a lot more interesting things from this new Robin than he had expected, a lucky turn of events for both him and_ them. _Perhaps Slade's initial expectations weren't entirely unreasonable, however, and perhaps Dick did at first intend to finish the hapless boy’s sad excuse of a life. But Dick knew it wouldn’t have satisfied him. Didn’t matter how much he tortured the new Robin, didn’t matter if he had done away with him when Slade had first brought him to him, the relief would only have been temporary. Nothing compared to his keep taking from him like he did now; using the sad little boy’s body watered Dick’s desires and_ needs like nothing else _._

_It had been a long time since Dick had found entertainment like Jason Todd. The boy's moans sounded like a kitten when Dick fucked him, his overly sensitive body reacting to even the slightest of stimulations. If Dick was being honest, he had to say that it wasn’t hard to see why someone might fall in love with him._

_Dick had to admit that he was starting to fall a little himself._

“ _He is safe,” Dick answered Raven a little more truthfully. “He won’t die or attain any serious injuries. You can rest assured that I will make certain of that.”_

_Raven didn’t really visibly relax to these words, but her expression did soften slightly._

“ _You don't need to do this,” she said. “Killing Komand’r. Killing people, turning into a criminal. Doing things for Slade. This isn’t you, Richard.”_

“ _Then you don't know the real me,” Dick replied emotionlessly._

_Raven walked up to him. Dick didn't move back, allowing her to stop right in front of him. She looked up, staring at him with sincerity in her eyes._

“ _No one can replace you, Richard,” she said, reaching out to hold Dick's hand. Her body temperature was slightly cooler than his, the difference could be felt through his glove. Raven’s slender fingers rested on the back of Dick’s hand. “The Titans regard you as the one and only. No one can ever replace Richard Grayson.”_

_Dick smiled at her coldly._

“ _I just knew that after you’d recognized me, you couldn't help but speak to me alone first,” he said, “not even letting anyone onto the secret first.”_

“ _I was holding out hope that I could convince you myself, somehow.”_

“ _You won't succeed,” Dick replied. “You won't tell the others, either. You are too nostalgic for that.”_

“ _Richard-”_

_Dick quickly interrupted her._

“ _I am_ inside _him as we speak,” he said, “sleeping next to him, he is_ wrapped around me.”

_Raven's expression hardly changed, except for a faint twitch of her eyebrows, as if her instincts told her to frown, but she restrained herself from the temptation._

“ _I know. I... can see. What you are seeing.”_

_Dick beamed. Of course, he knew she could. What's the point otherwise?_

“ _But you are still trying to persuade me, trying to steer towards good, aren’t you, Raven?” He asked. “This was never about Robin, was it? After all, you never considered him as one of you.”_

_Raven did not answer. She bit her lip, her eyes unreadable._

“ _Perhaps I will continue to discipline Robin, training him until he becomes loyal to no one but me,” Dick continued. “Maybe it’d work out better for him if he became my sidekick. I need a pet, after all.”_

_That was indeed a good idea, wasn't it? Dick imagined it for a moment, it wasn’t bad at all, even if he_ did _only say it to make her feel uneasy._

_Raven was silent for a while. When she spoke again, her tone was melancholic._

“ _We've been through so much together, Richard,” she said, “I refuse to believe that the Robin we knew wasn’t the real you. What happened? You should’ve been helping Tara shake off Slade's influence instead of approving her self-destructive path by following suit. The Robin I knew would never do- this kind of thing to his successor.”_

“ _Us—Tara and I—understood ourselves much better than you think.” Dick stared at her. “We chose Deathstroke because this had always been the path we were destined to go down in. Because us and him, we are the same kind of people.”_

“ _What about Rose, then? She was still so young when she joined, how do you know this is the path she’d choose if she knew better?”_

_Dick didn’t answer, so Raven continued, “The Titans sometimes talk about Defiance, Richard. Do you know how we refer to you? ’Slade’s army of child soldiers’, that’s what we call you. He makes you kill for him, using children to-"_

“ _We are not children, Raven, you should know this better than anyone-” Dick interrupted- “we stopped being children the day we formed the Teen Titans.”_

_Raven sighed, exasperated._

“ _Where did that boy—the Robin who’d looked for me all over the world in an attempt to bring me back and defeat my father—go? I know he existed, Richard.”_

“ _He’s still here, Raven. He never left,” Dick answered calmly. “It's because of him that I am who I am now. The Dick Grayson who would sacrifice his life for his friends. And the one who’d do anything to avenge Starfire. They were the same person.”_

_Somewhere above them, the younger Dick was climbing to a height on the cliff with little Raven on his back, hanging dangerously on the side of a phantom cliff._

“ _We won't let you get away with this, Richard,” Raven said, “I will find a way to defeat you.”_

“ _Then I have a warning for you all,” Dick answered, tone cold. “Do not approach us, do not try to find him. That way Robin won't get hurt.”_

“ _Jason is innocent from all of this,” Raven said. “Let him go, Richard. If for nothing other than for us.”_

_The ravens above their heads had gathered into a huge black cloud, and their croaks sounded like thunders before a storm. The densely-packed black cloud rolled about, countless red eyes shining through it like pinpoints._

“ _It's been nice talking to you again after so long, old friend,” Dick said, before the smile at the corner of his mouth fell into a silent growl. “But I think this conversation is over. Now, get out of my dream.”_

_The girl closed her eyes somberly. She didn't say anything after this._

_Dick watched as his former teammate’s form dimmed, as did everything around her. Until everything merged with the darkness around them. Until all there was, was an empty black void._

__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little confession, though I never outwardly shipped RobRae (Dick/Raven), I did have a liking to the ship and therefore I shall always have a soft spot for them.
> 
> The Dick & Raven confrontation in this chapter was something I knew from the beginning that I was going to write. It's an important moment, because this is probably where the first arc of the story closes and the second arc starts.
> 
> The next chapter will be Dick's flashback chapter like I'd promised sometime before, and it's another chapter I knew I was going to write before I started this fic. It will go into things like the timeline of the five years Dick's been away and how his obssession with Jason started.
> 
> Leave me any thoughts you might have! kudos+comments make a happy author!


	10. The Origin of Renegade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Ah, apologies,” the man said, “it's my misnomer. But I have to ask, what are you planning to do about this, boy?” 
> 
> Dick answered so quickly that one didn’t even have the time to breathe. 
> 
> “I want her dead.” 
> 
> Beneath the low lighting, Dick could see Deathstroke’s eye narrowing under the eye slit of his helmet.
> 
> “I’m afraid that won’t be easy, especially considering you are doing this alone.” 
> 
> “That's what I want to talk to you about,” Dick went straight to the point, showing no interest in beating around the bush. “I need your help.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm finally back after sweating over my kinkmas gifts! ([Here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28039746) if you are curious, it's a 14-page comic with medieval omegaverse dickjay, the rating is Explicit and the Warning includes Rape/Non-con.) 
> 
> Also, if you are interested, check out [this event](https://dickjayweek.tumblr.com/) cause it's also been taking over my life.
> 
> Anyway, as I said at the end of the last chapter, this is going to be a flashback chapter that deals with Dick's past and his obsession with Jason.
> 
> It's long, and we won't be going back to the present until the next chapter, but this chapter is one I knew I was going to write before I started this fic, and it will certainly fill in a lot of blanks the fic left out until now.
> 
> **A little heads up:**
> 
> Heavily revolves around the themes of past Dick/Kori and **Past Character Death** , as well as a couple of scenes with past Dick/Blackfire and Dick/Tara sexual encounters. There is some graphic violence depicted as well.
> 
> Fun fact: In the 2003 cartoon, Blackfire actually didn't have green eyes like the average Tamaranean from the comics. Her eyes were purple and there was actually an in-universe explanation given to it (Tamaraneans in that universe undergo a kind of transformation similar to puberty and Blackfire's eyes turned purple from it.)
> 
> However, she does have green eyes in this, because I've been reading a lot of the 80s New Teen Titans comics again, and they influenced me. Like the other characters here, she is going to be more of a fusion between the different versions.

_Jump City._

_It could be said this was the place where he took his first step away from Batman. It was the city that had made Dick Grayson his own man._

_He’d finally returned after five years. Returning to the cradle that created the then-Robin. (Teen Titans’ Robin.)_

_Looking at this place had felt like looking at one’s childhood. The streets he once walked with his friends, the parks, pizzerias, harbors, and the long sea bridge he’d used to visit. On a small island just a couple of miles outside of the harbor, there stood a giant tower built in the shape of the letter T._

_Dick's thought had been elsewhere. Seeing every detail here, the crowded vehicles and pedestrians, it had been no wonder that he would lose himself in his grimmer musings. Allowing his memories to pollute his mood and his reasons like a sickness._

_When Deathstroke brought the team back here, he only told them that the trip was about the antimatter core._

_“You stay here,” the mercenary said to Renegade, who at the time was staring at the city’s night scape in a daze. “Our mission today requires high concentration, and I don’t want you to distract the team with your tasteless nostalgia.”_

I don’t have nostalgia, _Dick wanted to say. But he knew it wouldn’t be true. In fact, Dick believed Slade was right. He'd spent hours and hours of his spare time staring at the video feeds and the photos he’d gathered on Batman’s new bird. And it just so happened that the damn Robin had been running with the Teen Titans a lot lately. If Dick went on a mission here, he really wasn’t sure whether he would’ve been the one to ruin the team’s flow._

_“Get a rest, boy,” Slade said, “let yourself have a vacation. Go browse the city. Do whatever you want.”_

_“I don’t think so,” Dick replied coldly._

_He didn’t visit the city as Slade had suggested. Instead, he stayed in their underground base, listening to the monotonous rolling of the gears overhead as he sharpened his beloved swords repeatedly on a slab of stone. He repeated it until it became a mechanized action, until his mind became somewhat a mess of wool, where various negative emotions competed for control over his thoughts._

_When Slade finally returned, the spoils he brought were nothing Dick had expected._

_The afternoon was quiet, the cool evening approaching with each second. Dick was overly irritated. What he was doing borderline what one would call OCD behavior. The sound of the friction between metal and earth became nothing more than a background noise, easily filtered out by his troubled mind._

_Dick reacted slowly when he received that untimely text message from Slade. Dick jumped, detecting the vibration of his phone from the workbench it was sitting on. Anxious, he temporarily placed his sword down, huffing impatiently as he went over to pick up the phone. Sliding up the screensaver that showed a younger version of himself with Kori by his side, Dick read the message Slade sent him._

I have a gift for you. Stay where you are and don't go anywhere. Get some restraints ready. Preferably, get a shelf. 

_Dick frowned, trying to understand the meaning of it. But he remained completely clueless. The phone vibrated a second time. This time it was Joey's name that popped up._

Has pops come to you yet, Dick? 

_Dick raised an eyebrow in confusion before he quickly typed a reply._

What are you talking about? 

_He tapped send. The app showed Joey typing on the other end. Joey’s reply came after maybe a dozen seconds had passed._

You’d understand when he gets there. Reply to me then, I have something I must talk to you about. 

_Dick paused. He tilted his head in confusion, trying to piece together what his teammates did when they were away. With his thumb hovering over the screen for quite a while, Dick finally put into words what he wanted to say to his friend._

Of course I will, buddy.

_Dick turned off the screen after that, ready to place it back on the table. As soon as it touched the surface, the door to the training room opened._

_Most of the doors of the base were thick and heavily guarded with security. It opened with a retina scan before the metal door slowly slid open, pulled by the network of archaic gears. Dick turned his head and watched curiously at the mercenary’s large figure standing in the entryway._

_On one of Slade’s shoulders, there was a bundle of something sagging there. It looked like a sack of something, like a bag of coal or sand, and Dick could only make out the bit of yellow and the green underneath. Slade didn’t rush to shut the door, instead, he shifted the thing over his shoulder slightly before he walked over._

_“Slade,” Dick nodded slightly in respect. His mentor snorted in response._

_At last Slade made his way to Dick, and Dick immediately recognized what it was—clear as day._

_The hatred, the animosity, and the obsessions that Dick had been suppressing over the past years all surged in that very moment._

_The arteries in Dick's temple were pumping in irritation, blood rushing up in heated currents. His breath was rapid, his heartbeat sped up, and the flame of loath suddenly overshadowed all his logical reasoning. Dick clenched his fists before he opened them again, just so he could close them tighter. Dick almost heard the grinding of his teeth._

_No matter how much had things changed, he would always recognize that colorful uniform._

His _uniform._

 _“What are you doing, Slade?” Dick said coldly. He was expressionless, his enmity almost making the temperature around him drop by a few degrees. “What are you trying to do by bringing that_ fraud _here?”_

_He heard Slade snort behind his helmet._

_“What’s that reaction, apprentice? I thought you’d at least be a little excited,” the mercenary said with a sneer. “After all, this was the target of our mission today. I’ve exhausted the entire team to catch the little birdie for you.”_

_Finishing, Slade threw the new Robin down from his shoulder and onto the ground._

_Jason Todd's body fell to the floor limp, his back facing Dick. No reaction came from him. His hands were restrained behind his back with shackles made from Tara's rocks. Slade then nudged the boy with his boot to turn him over to a face-up position. The little guy didn’t even make a noise. The old man had probably injected him with something._

_It was such a misuse of precious sedatives by wasting them on this…_ thing.

_“Drag this trash away from my floor,” Dick said, disgust dripping off of his tongue, “I don't want it dirtying my furniture.”_

_His mentor snorted._

_“My gift, apprentice,” Slade said with a sense of normalcy. “You’ve been especially absent these days. You’ve been like this for years now. Surely, you don't think that we hadn’t seen what you’ve been up to researching the bird? The information you gathered over the years—all the photos and videos of Batman and his new Robin?”_

_Dick wrinkled his nose._

_He didn’t need Slade to bring it up. Dick still clearly remembered the shock when he’d seen the bird flying next to the Bat in a trending video feed for the first time. He clearly remembered his sullen anger when the news came that his replacement had gone over to help the Titans. He’d purposefully suppressed those emotions until they were like a volcano waiting to erupt._

_Maybe Dick Grayson had been gone for five years, but his memories were still alive before the new Robin intervened. It wasn’t until Todd appeared Dick was replaced for real. His memory, his_ legacy, _hadn’t been truly bastardized before then._

_It was almost like his uniform itself became dirtied; contaminated by the fraud that didn’t deserve to wear it._

_“You are distressed, Richard.” Slade continued, “You need an outlet, a medium that can help you release some of that frustration. I should’ve taught you better than this—if there is something bothering you, then_ change _it. It's why I brought Robin here. Think of it as an opportunity to do what you’d always wanted to do.”_

_Dick looked at him in the eye, indifferent. “The only thing I want to do to the brat, is to cut him into pieces.”_

_Slade shrugged._

_“Then, you finally have the chance to do it,” he simply said._

_Dick narrowed his eyes, and the scent of hostility surrounded him._

_“Why don't you come closer and have a good look at him?” Slade prompted. “Maybe if you do that, you’ll find something to like about the boy.”_

_Dick couldn’t hold back his sneer at those words. He threw a mocking glare Slade’s way, eyes shining in defiance._

_But the truth was, Dick knew he couldn't have refused the invitation. He was too curious about the kid who took his title. If there was any opportunity for Dick to know more about his undeserving successor at all, he’d never say no to it._

He’s actually quite lovely for a home-wrecker punk _—was Dick’s first thought when he set his eyes on Robin._

_The fifteen-year-old was short in stature and looked so very different from Dick at that age. It looked like the boy's life on the streets had hindered the development of his body significantly._

_Dick's eyes scanned over the boy's black hair, small nose, and his youthful thick eyebrows. Dick knew his voice still cracked; he knew that the irises hidden underneath the little bastard’s eyelids were a kind of cyan blue. For someone who he’d never met, Dick really had a shocking amount of knowledge about his replacement. He didn’t even need to wait for the brat to wake up to imagine the panic on his face._

_Except, what Dick saw in that moment was physical and real, rather than those same old forbidden thoughts that had only lived in his perverted fantasies till then. The boy was alive, breathing—flesh and blood._

_“He’s a courageous little boy who surely knows how to use his brains,” Slade said. “He almost left Rose and Tara in the dust. If it wasn’t Joey, maybe he’d even have escaped. Of course, the girls all got the order to be careful with him. After all, I can't let them damage the goods, can I?”_

_Dick crossed his arms and frowned. He didn’t answer._

_“What do you think, apprentice?” Slade said, “Now that you’ve seen him.”_

+++ 

+++Five years ago+++ 

Many small things happened during those small intervals of life. Some details were so minute that they escaped rather than stayed. There weren’t many little things in a person’s life that could be memorized down to the seconds. 

Yet, sometimes, a few seconds was more than enough to change someone's life. 

_She should’ve been safe._

Dick thought when he held his girlfriend’s body, scorching from the burn that killed her. 

The hole in Kori’s back was still sizzling, the scent of burning flesh filling Dick’s nostrils. 

The silent night still crackled with energy from the duel between Star and her sister. It wouldn’t have dissipated for hours even after the battle was over. 

Raven was the first to rush to them. She fell on her knees and knelt beside Dick, eyes wide open. Gar and Victor came not long afterward. 

Dick said nothing. A corner of his cloak was singed and there were some bruises on his cheeks, but he had no injuries other than that. The same went for others. They should’ve all survived Blackfire's attack with no worse for wear. 

It was Komand’r who first proposed to duel her sister. It had been Tamaran’s custom. She’d sworn that if she lost, she would leave earth without causing any more trouble. Kori had won. But the nasty cheater had attacked from behind her as she turned to leave, just like she’d done countless times before.

Komand’r had gathered all her energy into one starbolt in her palm and shot it through Kori’s body. She grabbed onto her through her clothes, clenching it, and didn’t let it go until the entire area on Kori’s back had become nothing but a scorching black spot. 

Dick could never forget Kori’s cry of agony tearing through his heart. Could never forget the unending range of distance between them as he ran toward her. It was a scene that would continue to pop up in his nightmares for years to come. The once-Robin kept running, and running, and running… but he’d never catch up. He would be forever stuck in the limbo of that hopeless moment and would never arrive in time. 

When Dick finally ran to Kori’s side, Blackfire had been long gone, taking her alien guards with her. Dick only arrived at Kori's lifeless body. 

He held her, crying and chanting her name. But the burn on her chest was still spreading. The burn must have penetrated the ribs and charred the chest cavity, like pork chops that had been left on the barbecue for too long. 

“Raven,” Dick said. Between his sobs and hiccups, Dick could hardly calm himself enough to talk to his team. In his mind’s eye he saw flames, saw blood and destruction, burning a hole into his retina. Yet, he also saw _her,_ alive before his eyes. Laughing, fighting, the ups and downs of friendship and passion, the awkwardness and the heat of a first love. Kori lived in front of Dick's eyes; he wanted to see her that way—to remember her that way. 

Dick's voice was a little hoarse, sounding a lot older than he really was. It’s as if he had grown by several decades in the span of a few minutes. 

“Save her, Raven,” Dick pleaded, looking up. His mask became a little slanted, his tears slipping down his cheeks in streaks of black, like mascara running in the rain. 

“I'm sorry, Robin,” Raven said, “I… I can’t. Her soul is gone. I can’t sense her soul... She no longer exists in this realm.” 

Raven was crying, Dick suddenly saw. Her eyes were wide open, her tears swirling in her sockets. Dick had almost never seen Raven cry. She’d received strong disciplinary training from Azarath, after all, and Raven wouldn’t so easily lose control of her emotions. The only time Dick saw her cry was on the eve of the apocalypse that Trigon had brought on this world. 

Dick was suddenly choked with grief from reality. That’s when Dick knew Kori would not survive.

His love died, right in his arms

What happened after was a haze. 

Dick remembered placing Kori on his motorcycle (he refused to refer to her as a body; she was Kori and always would be), fixed her on the seat in front of him with her back against the display panel, and sped off with her in tow. His friends called out from behind him, but he heard nothing. It didn't even take him a few seconds to leave them so far behind that he couldn’t hear anything, anyway. The motorcycle sped until there was only a strong wind in Dick's ears. His cloak fluttered behind him in an almost straight line. 

Dick rode through the dark forest, completely unaware of how many branches he crashed on the way. A red dot showed up on the display panel. Dick knew that’s where he was going. 

The place where Blackfire stayed on earth. 

She made an island her temporary vacation home, a quiet and beautiful island just off the coast of Jump City. Even when she didn’t have Tamaran’s throne, she was still a princess. Only this kind of luxury was fitting to her royal status. 

By the time Dick got off the motorboat, all his logical reasoning had left him. 

On the shore, there was a sandy beach with a short but long cliff lining it. There were a couple of alien guards already emerging from the trees on the other side of the cliff—Tamaranean brutes who were still loyal to Blackfire and her cause—only seconds after the motorboat stopped at the shore.

The small island had dense trees and a big garden. A pink villa was visible through the woods. A few windows lit against the dark sky, the warm light illuminating a small patch of leaves around it like a lighthouse. The flowers and plants on the island exuded a fresh scent, the salty breeze of the sea blowing them onto Dick's face. His cloak flowed silently behind him.

Dick wrinkled his nose, fixing his eyes on the corner of the house instead of on the guards. 

Blackfire’s ship was just sitting beyond it.

Dick vaguely remembered fighting his way through the royal guards to get to Komand’r. He wielded his bo-staff and fought like a madman, simultaneously throwing darts and gadgets from his belt. A mere human, Dick had to rely on his skills and determination to cut his way through these much stronger aliens. Dick ran towards the top of the hill, his resolve set on the building where Kori’s killer lived. 

By the time the remaining Titans arrived, Dick was covered in blood. 

He was bruised and bloody, his Robin uniform torn in many places with musky blood and mud smudged all over it.

Dick could see red. Did he kill in his attempt to exact revenge on Blackfire? Even Tamaraneans could be killed, as tough as they were. Didn’t Dick leave at least a few corpses in the wake of his fury? Whatever the answer was, Raven should know. Dick only realized afterwards that Raven would certainly have sensed it if he had. 

Dick was almost there. Just a little more distance—just maybe a few hundred yards away from the spaceship—before a wall of black energy blocked him.

Raven appeared before him. The girl stretched her arms in the shape of wings, forming a shield with her soul self and blocking Dick's way. Cyborg and Beast Boy arrived not long after. Victor raised his cannon as Gar turned into a giant ape, roaring intimidatingly. 

Dick remembered the hesitating resolution in their eyes. Their Robin, out of control, and they had no choice but to use force to stop him. Dick's former friends were facing him like they’d faced Terra once. It was almost as if the one Dick was trying to kill wasn’t Kori’s murder, but one of them. 

“Robin, don’t,” Raven said.

Dick growled through his teeth, his voice a little hoarse. 

“Step aside!” 

“Calm down, bro,” Victor said, “killing her isn’t the answer.” 

“Get out of my way,” Dick spat. “She is going to leave earth soon.” 

After all, that’s what she had planned. It wasn’t like Komand’r could stay after what she had done. The princess of Tamaran had already retreated with her guards and servants back into the ship. 

Though Dick had his attention on the Titans, his gaze was locked on the ship. His hands were shaking as he clutched his staff, blood rushing to his temples. 

“Get out of my way, guys!” Dick shouted, “Don't let her escape!” 

By now, the night sky was lightening. From a distance, Dick saw the silhouette of the spacecraft sitting against the rising sun when it left the ground. It took off silently, only shooting out an ultrasonic wave that rippled through the surface of the sea. Dick looked up, his eyes seeing blood. He saw it ascending to the sky with an extreme speed, and only in a few seconds it was nothing more than a small spot under the vast sky. 

Too late. He could never catch up to her now. 

In front of him, Raven lowered her shield, bringing up a small wave of air that blew up a few strands of Dick's hair. 

“Robin…” Garfield started first. 

“… Don’t.” Dick hissed. 

Raven descended from the air and landed lightly on her toes. She approached Dick slowly, her hand outstretched as if to provide comfort. But Dick dodged her. 

“Richard…” Raven's voice was filled with sadness. But Dick didn't look at her. He refused to look at the melancholy on her face. It’s not what he needed at the moment. 

“Don't,” he repeated. “Kori didn’t have to die. If... if only we’d killed Blackfire from the beginning. She would’ve survived.” 

“Buddy!” - “Man!” 

Garfield and Victor’s incredible clamor came at the same time. Dick wasn’t looking at them either, yet he could imagine the way their faces looked. Astonished and betrayed. Wasn’t Dick feeling the exact same way? 

He ignored them from then on. 

The sky had brightened up by then. The island was foggy with the smoke from the battle between Dick and the Tamaranean royal guards. 

Dick walked through the smoke to where he’d first landed on the island, covering his mouth with his cloak, soaked in grime and gore. The island looked almost dreamy under the twilight, the pink sunlight giving the branches of the trees beautiful halos.

He hopped down and steadied himself on the soft sand. Coming to Kori’s side, Dick picked up her cold body and placed it back onto the motorboat. The calls of his friends rang behind him, but Dick turned a deaf ear. 

With the loud noise of the engine, Dick took Kori and disappeared right in front of their eyes, riding over the horizon. 

Dick sat by the coast with Kori beside him, looking at the distant sunrise. His eyes were grim as he gripped her hand. Her body was cold, her fingers stiff from rigor mortis, already setting in. 

If he waited a little longer, he might not be able to move her at all. 

They worked so hard to protect the world while doing the right things. Maybe the road ahead had looked bumpy from time to time, but they’d always believed that the combined strength of their friendship could overcome anything that barred their path. No need to take shortcuts, no need to lose their principles to do things simply because they were easy. As long as they were together as a group, everything would be fine. 

Dick took off his gauntlets and gently stroked Kori's palm with his thumb, trying to warm her up with his own body. He remembered how he’d felt when she’d put the friendship necklace around his neck. It had been the feeling of having the support of friends, knowing that there was always someone there to watch his back. No matter how deep he’d fallen, it felt that there was always someone pulling him back from the dark abyss. 

Dick became easily fixated on things. It often meant he could notice things that bothered his team. But occasionally, it meant grimmer things. It meant pursuing his obsessions so much that he strayed away from those he loved and those who loved him. Like the time he took on the Red X alias in his mission to hunt Deathstroke, not caring that he’d made enemies out of his own friends along the way. And now, Dick felt those same principles that Red X represented were once again invading his mind.

It was a torch of hatred burning in his chest. Whenever he closed his eyes, he could see the scorching image of Kori’s smile burning away, revealing Komand’r’s sneer. A decaying soul hidden right beneath that stunning exterior. 

Dick wanted to destroy that decaying presence, to remove the part of Blackfire’s influence that polluted his soul, little by little. That side of him wanting justice needed to see the wicked being eliminated from the world, and it wouldn’t rest until she’d gotten the same punishment she’d dealt out to her own kin. 

In an instant, Dick seemed to have returned to the time when his parents had fallen; once again, the helpless child who wanted nothing more than exacting revenge on the people who took away his loved ones. Yet, the nine-year-old him had Bruce’s guidance; Red X had Kori to pull him back from the depths. Who was here to tell him to stop now? 

Dick switched from rubbing Kori’s palm to massaging her fingers, doing so gently like one did to one’s living lover. He tried to use his own body temperature to restore the softness of her joints, trying to use gentle gestures to inspire any reaction from her. 

“Kori,” Dick spoke like a doomed idiot, “wake up and tell me what I should do. What should I do now?”

Only the waves, the sound of passing cars, and the morning calls of the seagulls answered him. 

Dick looked up. His eyes were already a little puffy, but his expression was flat and he was exhausted. 

He didn't know what he was waiting for. He knew Kori could no longer answer, but part of Dick hoped she could give him a sign. Just like the way she used to, using her cheerfulness to help Dick through his troubles and to tell him that the road to revenge was a one-way street, and that walking it would mean no turning back. To tell him everything would be fine. To pull him from the darkness back to the light again. 

However, when Dick finally looked at Kori’s face, he realized that there was never another option available to him.

+++

There was really only one place to go. Only one person who could help him accomplish this. 

If there was something that Bruce had taught Dick that he could never forget, was that preparedness was the best strategy. Dick knew it would be near impossible to track Blackfire down by himself without backups or a team. He needed an ally, and Dick’s unusual truce and partnership with Deathstroke in the wake of Trigon's attack made the mercenary an exceptional candidate. 

Dick called Deathstroke before he even got close to his base. 

Unsurprisingly, Deathstroke replied to the call almost immediately. Dick knew the mercenary was still fully willing to apprentice him. He was more than ready to take full advantage of that. 

‘Oh, hello, Robin,’ showing up through the projection, Deathstroke said, ‘what a surprise.’

“Cut the crap, Slade,” Dick cut straight to the point. He sped on his motorcycle and had to speak loudly for the sound of his voice to pass through his helmet and into the intercom. “I have something to discuss with you. An opportunity for a partnership.” 

Even with a mask on, Dick could detect the slight widening of Slade’s eye.

‘I will meet you at the seaport,’ said the mercenary, ‘tonight at two o’clock. Alone.’ 

“No,” Dick rejected. This was the exact moment for him to take the initiative. If he really wanted to avenge Kori, then he had to be the one holding the rein. “At your base,” he said, “right _now.”_

Deathstroke looked surprised. Dick knew that someone like him would definitely have already noticed the less-than-optimal state Dick was in. 

‘Why, in a hurry, are you?’ The mercenary almost sounded like he was teasing. 

“Cut the useless banters, Slade,” Dick repeated. “Right now. At your base. Agree to meet, or I'll find someone else.” 

Deathstroke was silent for a moment. Dick knew he was giving it a thought. 

‘Alright,’ the mercenary said after a few moments. ‘Get rid of any tracking device on you.’

“Way ahead of you,” Dick said. “My Titans’ communicator is lying somewhere out there along the seashore, and I’ve already disconnected the tracking signal in the bike.”

‘And the one you carry in you?’

Dick knew what he meant. 

He raised his arm and displayed the fresh wound on his forearm in front of the camera. The laceration from which he cut away the tracker that Batman had planted in him sat there. 

“When I get there, I have to borrow some medical supplies,” Dick said. "A few stitches here should be helpful." 

‘You know where to find me,’ Deathstroke simply said, ‘I will wait for you for an hour. No more than that.’ 

“More than enough time,” Dick replied. 

+++

Deathstroke’s base had not changed one bit since the last time he was here. The sound of gears echoed overhead, the noise was maddening. 

Dick didn't know why anyone could be in a place like this and still keep their sanity. 

“To what do I owe the honors?” 

The greeting echoed in the hall. The mercenary still liked to get on Dick’s nerves like before, but now it was different. Dick knew enough about him to not feel intimidated by his mere tricks. This time, he had business to discuss. 

“You’re right,” Dick said, not even looking back. 

He heard heavy footsteps echoing behind him. 

“You look terrible,” Deathstroke said. 

“There are problems that can’t be solved by abiding by the law.” Ignoring him, Dick said, “The only appropriate punishment for some sins is death.” 

The footsteps stopped. Deathstroke stood behind Dick. 

“I did a little digging before you arrived,” Deathstroke said, with a trace of regret in his tone. Dick tried to find any sign of mockery, of faking. He didn’t. Deathstroke’s apology at least seemed to be genuine. “I'm deeply sorry. The alien princess had been a respectable teammate and ally to you.” 

“She’s more than that,” Dick corrected him, biting out the words through his teeth. 

The footsteps started again. Deathstroke stood in front of him this time. Dick saw the two-toned mask appear in his field of vision, looking ghastly in the dimness. 

“Ah, apologies,” the man said, “it's my misnomer. But I have to ask, what are you planning to do about this, boy?” 

Dick answered so quickly that one didn’t even have the time to breathe. 

“I want her dead.” 

Beneath the low lighting, Dick could see Deathstroke’s eye narrowing under the eye slit of his helmet.

“I’m afraid that won’t be easy, especially considering you are doing this alone.” 

“That's what I want to talk to you about,” Dick went straight to the point, showing no interest in beating around the bush. “I need your help.” 

“What kind of help?”

Deathstroke deliberately said it with an apathetic tone, but Dick could hear his unconcealed interest. Dick could see the slight twinkle in the mercenary’s one good eye—other than that, his body language didn’t reveal anything at all.

It looked like he took the bait well. Good.

“Komand’r left earth,” Dick said, “I want to be ready for her when she comes back.”

“So, are you telling me,” Deathstroke raised his chin slightly and said with a hint of curiosity, “that you are finally ready to reconsider my proposal of an apprenticeship, are you?”

“No, Slade,” Dick shook his head. “Not an apprenticeship. A partnership. Starting now and ends with Kom’s death.”

“What can I gain, then, if I agree to this ‘partnership’?”

Dick stared at Deathstroke through his mask. Other than his fingers bending just a little, he didn’t reveal a trace of nervousness. 

It’s impossible to not be at least a bit nervous, especially when Dick knew full well the things the man had done to his team. But Dick was a different person now. He’d passed that stage, had seen the face under Deathstroke’s mask—had seen the mercenary when he was at his weakest. The big white whale he’d dedicated his life to catching no longer appeared as impossible as it was before. 

Most importantly, Dick was more than ready to cut his ties with the Titans this time around. Without Kori, there was nothing and no one left to hold him back. 

“My help.” Dick replied calmly. “You’ll have my full assistance on your missions. The more impossible contracts of yours? I will be there to back you up. Of course, I will ask for a share of the reward eventually. But I think these are details that can be discussed after we've reached an understanding.”

“Why should I agree to this?” Deathstroke snorted. “I was doing great by myself. Why do you think I will agree to your _conditions?”_

“If you don’t, then we don’t have a deal,” Dick said. “Are you trying to tell me that there's no deal, Slade?”

Deathstroke didn’t answer. He simply stared.

“How do I know that you will be up to the task?” He sneered after a while. “My job involves _killing,_ boy.”

Dick could feel the corners of his mouth rising until he was displaying a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. In front of him, Deathstroke appeared surprised, yet amused.

“And I was worried that you won’t let me,” Dick said.

+++

 _I hope our partnership can work out nicely. I think the time has come to perfect our team._ These were the two most memorable lines Slade said to Dick that day.

Once they reached an agreement, Deathstroke asked his apprentices—old and new—to pack up and set off the very next day, planning to move their new base to New York.

Dick didn't have many things to take away with him. The things he missed the most—the TV sitting in Titan’s Tower, the necklace that Kori gave him, the hard drives containing the photos they took when they hung out in the tower—were either things that he couldn’t have taken, or things that’d only distract him from his cause.

And so, Dick hacked into the Tower’s security on that very night and sneaked inside, packing only a couple of things he couldn’t separate with and the few necessities to get him by in the next few days. The exquisite Katana that he had in his room, a Batarang as a souvenir, and a photo he took with Kori, which sat in a small frame beside his bed. He left his phone and all other electronics behind, only taking away two sets of clothing and some daily supplies.

Deathstroke’s helicopter was waiting for him in the harbor. The propeller was already starting even before Dick got off the motorcycle. Dick straddled the backpack and his sword onto his back before hopping in. Slade was inside already. And Tara, too, sitting next to him in her uniform, greeting Dick with a peace sign when she saw him walk in.

“The helicopter will take us to the airship,” Slade said. “After we get to New York, we will live and train in our base of operations. Tomorrow, I have to leave for a few days to get something done.”

“What kind of thing?” Dick asked. He wasn’t exactly giddy. He was rather upset that their training wouldn’t start immediately.

“Something that will help us in the long run,” Slade replied. “After I leave, you two are free to go out and buy the things you need.”

Slade did as he said.

He really did leave early in the morning the next day. When he returned, he had a boy in tow, one about the same age as Dick. One with blond hair and a power that allowed him to possess anyone at will.

It didn’t take until the second sentence Dick said before he discovered Joseph’s muteness. It took another two years before Dick finally managed to get Joey to confide in him the incident that had caused it. Joey was Slade’s son. If it weren't for the family resemblance, it was a rather hard thing to believe.

Dick and Joey’s friendship began from the moment they met. In the next five years, that friendship would not cease.

Dick was seventeen that year, and New York became the second city to make him someone new.

+++ 

Killing was a practice for Dick. Killing anyone else was just an exercise. One done to work toward his goal—avenging Kori. 

The first person Dick killed wasn’t Blackfire, but it was someone who was equally guilty. 

Slade trained Dick as strictly as Dick had expected. His new mentor’s obsession with perfectionism was comparable to Bruce’s. Slade had always asked for the best performances from his apprentices and his children, only giving them the shortest time for rest.

But Dick never flinched, never backed down. When he saw Deathstroke he didn’t see someone to contain him but a set of stairs—a way to get him higher and to help him complete his goal. No matter how hard Slade’s tasks were, Dick finished them with exceptional results.

Deathstroke thoroughly understood what motivated Dick. The first kill mission he gave his apprentice was someone not dissimilar to the gangster who caused the death of his parents. Just before Dick put an end to the thug’s life, the gang leader was just talking to his men about using a child’s life to scare his parents into paying protection money.

The second was a drug dealer with blood on his hands; the third an evil scientist who developed weapons that could destroy humanity; the fourth an amoral politician. Every task was easier than the last. Every time Renegade’s sword was stained with the blood of his victims, the more indifferent he became. 

All this came too naturally for Dick, and even Tara's attitude towards him changed into one of respect. But what Tara didn't know—perhaps not even Slade—was that this wasn’t exactly a new development. It was _metamorphosis._

Dick didn’t lose himself because of Kori’s death. Her death woke something in Dick and allowed that dormant side of him to shine through—the side of him that hadn’t appeared since he met Bruce; the side that had hibernated throughout Dick’s time with the Titans.

Slade's daughter came to them two years later; Renegade had been reborn and become his new self by then. Slade trusted him enough that he gave Dick the task of training her almost immediately, not giving it a second thought.

Rose was the youngest among them and had the deepest obsession with Slade. She had admired her father all her life, but when she was finally able to meet him like she’d hoped, she was disappointed to find herself thrown to the side like a piece of used wrapping paper. She watched as Slade spent all his free time in training his favored apprentice. And she, his own flesh and blood, was put aside as if she was a burden. A second thought.

Rose put all she had got into training. Her sword always pointed to the fatal points on Dick's body, striving for fatality even when it’s just meant to be some harmless spar. It’s as if every session was a duel of life and death. Maybe Dick had been aware of how much it was troubling her. But he was too preoccupied by vengeance, and he didn’t have much experience dealing with kids much younger than he was. Maybe the thought took form in his head at some point, but it had always been too easily chased away by the thought of Blackfire’s death. It had failed to take root in Dick's mind.

When Dick arrived at seeing Rose's horribly bleeding eye one day, it was already done and there was nothing more he could do.

Dick retrieved the first aid kit and cleaned the wound. With the metagene Rose inherited from her father, they had no concerns that the wound would heal in no time. But the eye she gouged out herself would never grow back.

Rose shoved Dick's hand away and cleaned the rest of blood by herself.

“I will defeat you one day,” she said, holding the gauze over her bleeding socket. “Someday. I will show daddy my worth.”

Dick sighed.

“Alright, kid.” 

He knelt beside Rose on one knee, watched as she fixed the gauze in place with pieces of medical tapes and finished dressing the wound all by herself.

For the first time after coming here, there was a glimmer of the emotions Dick thought for sure he’d gotten rid of a long time ago. Tara’s power gave her all the destructive abilities she needed; Joey was completely capable of protecting himself with his ability. But Rose... Rose was barely more than a kid.

And they were his team, just like the Titans used to be. No matter how calm Dick might feel about killing, his protective tendencies as a leader were deeply rooted in his nature. He couldn’t hold back the desire to take care of his team and keep them away from danger.

But Dick knew one thing would always remain the same. There was one person Dick would never feel guilty in killing. Not only that, when the moment came it would excite him. He’d feel the passing of her life, and every minute and second of the process would provide the fuel that Dick needed to keep going.

This was all for that moment. 

+++ 

Dick was nineteen when news came that Batman had a new Robin. 

He didn't hear it from Slade. He didn't find out through his periodic investigation of Gotham. He knew about it solely because Tara showed him her phone—and the shaky, grainy video feed playing on it. A video that was posted online.

Learned it from an internet video with tens of millions of views. That's how Dick found out that he’d been replaced.

Dick couldn’t hear anything when he saw the video. Blood rushed to his head, and he could hear his heartbeat in his temples. His heart was clenched with animosity, his surrounding air rippled by disbelief and disapproval. He was brimming with one emotion.

Dick saw the brat in the video—wearing _his_ uniform, _his_ cape, using _his_ name in _his_ city while trailing behind _his_ former mentor—as he leapt between the roofs of Gotham.

Dick could see how different the kid was from himself. The brat wasn’t an acrobat, his backflips were full of flaws. He didn’t have Dick’s flexibility, his dexterity, or his skills. The kid didn’t deserve the title _Robin_ in every way possible.

Dick didn’t even realize he was holding the phone so tight his knuckles were turning white until Tara carefully pulled it out of his hand. If she did that a moment later, she might have had to pick the pieces off of the floor.

“That's not Robin,” Dick said, barely an intelligible whisper.

“Oh, yeah?” Tara raised an eyebrow. “He sure dresses like Robin.”

“A chicken playing dress up,” Dick said, “I’m going to kill the punk.”

“Good luck, then. This isn’t just anyone on the street. He is Batman’s sidekick.”

Dick didn’t bother answering her. He turned around to leave, trying to act like he didn’t care. He wasn’t in the mood to continue the topic. But he knew Tara didn’t miss how tense his shoulders were.

It wasn’t entirely false. At first, Dick really didn’t care all that much.

He kept up with his training, going as hard as his body allowed. He carried out all his lessons like his life depended on them, leading the team on missions the way a raging paranoid would. Dick worked so hard that he barely had minutes by himself other than the few hours he slept. Even during meals, Dick barely gave himself five minutes at most to stuff the simple sandwiches into his mouth.

He didn’t have time to worry about the little bastard. He had more important things to do. Kori’s murderer was still living large. 

But the more Dick wanted to avoid the subject, the more often those thoughts would pop back into his mind to haunt him. It found him during the few minutes he gave himself to rest between training sessions, in the fifteen minutes before he fell asleep at night, or even during training or missions themselves. The image of a young boy wearing Dick’s uniform, suddenly appearing before him-

At some point, Dick started to collect information about the new kid. Every day in the morning, after Joey finished with the papers he liked to read while having his coffee, Dick would take them and flip to the Gotham column to see if there was any news on Batman and the new Robin. If so, if there was any article mentioning Bruce’s new bird at all, if any photo had the brat on it (Dick refused to call the punk his successor)—he would quietly cut the article off of the newspaper and slip it into his folder.

Dick also made use of many other channels for information. Things he could find either on the internet or by hacking into the system of various organizations the brat associated with. The adoptive papers Bruce signed. Information the kid’s school kept on the students.

The new kid’s name was Jason Peter Todd, six years Dick’s junior. According to the information he’d gathered, the brat was adopted at age thirteen by Bruce Wayne, but Dick had reasons to believe he was taken in long before that. The kid’s hair was jet-black, much like Dick’s, and was just slightly wavy; his eyes were cyan-blue, his appearance Caucasian, his stature thinner and shorter than most kids his age. Considering his background on the Gotham streets, it really wasn’t surprising.

Did Bruce really replace Dick with a dirty street rat? To add insult to injury, he had also successfully adopted him as a _son_ this time around. A status that even Dick had never had the pleasure of obtaining.

When Dick wasn’t training, he’d often polished his weapons alone in the dark, playing the footage of the boy taken by civilians and the GCPD on the screen of his laptop. Dick sorted all the recordings he could find and cut them into one long video, ordered chronologically. From the very first time the brat was spotted, to the most recent time.

Dick added new footage to the cut constantly, made it a regular thing where he’d watch the edit while he ate or took a break. He saw how the little bird flew in the sky, fought alongside Batman (the spot used to belong to Dick), and defeated the Gotham rogues with his ex-partner. A colorful ghost against the night; a bird with no idea what pain was.

Dick paused and replayed the footage repeatedly like a madman, his eyes boring into the screen like a set of lasers as he studied every movement and every flaw his unqualified successor made. He imagined the fraud’s wings broken and his feathers clipped—the once carefree figure trapped in a cage—becoming nothing more than an item for observation, for entertainment, and for enjoyment.

But it had always just been nothing more than a fantasy of the mind, a cruel envisioning that was not uncommon among even regular people. Dick could have never foreseen how these thoughts would take root in his mind, leaving an impression that would never cease and that would only deepen with time. Like a tree quietly growing until it turned from a tiny sapling into a giant.

“You are so obsessed,” Tara said. She’d come to Dick after training and had quickly seen how he’d leaned on a worktable as he watched his cut like someone possessed. On the small screen of the computer, in the dark night of Gotham, Robin was following Batman onto the roof of a nearby building, giddily retracting the line of his grappling hook.

Tara wrapped her arms around Dick’s neck. She was so tiny that she had to stand on tiptoe to do this, her slim body pressing against his back, her soft breasts squished against his muscles.

“Yet you still tell me you don’t care?” She breathed in his ear. “Are you jealous? What will you do about it?” 

Dick snorted, but he didn’t push her away.

He did give Tara's words some thought. What _did_ he want to do about it?

But it failed to take hold. Dick had more important things to think about.

Blackfire was still out there.

+++ 

By the time Dick was twenty-one, he finally got the news he was waiting for.

There was just one photo—a woman, with black hair and wearing sunglasses, sitting in the back of a luxury sports car. It was just a bust photo taken from a distance, but seeing it was enough to make Dick's blood boil. The anger he had suppressed for four years burned fiercely as if someone poured gasoline on it, scorching in his chest like a spreading wildfire.

“This is the one you are looking for, correct?” Slade said.

The photo was provided by his network. After handing it over, Slade had had his arms crossed over his chest, staring at Dick expectantly. 

“Where is she?” Dick asked.

“On this planet. Or, to be specific, on an island right outside this city.”

Dick's hand trembled.

So close. Kori’s murderer. She was less than twenty miles away from him at this moment.

Slade had been paying attention to how Dick’s expression changed. Nothing about his shift in mood escaped his mentor. Slade spoke again. 

“She came to Earth as a fugitive,” he said. “Based on the information you provided, it seems that your nemesis has made quite a few enemies all over the place. I am afraid that other than you, there are still many people out there who want the alien princess dead.”

“It’s too bad, then,” Dick said, “I alone can kill her.”

“What are you going to do, boy?” Slade asked teasingly, “You’ve prepared for this for four years. You’ve trained hard, and you’ve done it for this moment.”

Countless ideas passed through Dick’s mind, but they all revolved around the very last moment. Scenarios flashed before Dick’s eyes: how he’d kill Blackfire; how he’d cut off her breath and watch life slowly drain from her widened eyes. But when it was time to consider the actual plan, Dick’s head drew a blank.

“I will wait until she is alone,” he finally said, because Dick knew his mentor was merciless when faced with the lack of planning. “I will keep watch until her guards are not with her-”

Slade let out a deep laugh. He bent down, as if this whole thing sounded hilarious to him.

“It's more than a little easy to get close to her, boy.”

He finally calmed down after a while. Slade smirked and spoke, eyes fixing on Dick, “With _your_ looks and charm, it won’t be easier.” 

Dick became silent. The meaning didn’t escape him, but the thought alone was enough to make him feel sick.

The years had indeed transformed Dick from a boy into a dashing young man. The baby fat on his face no longer there, Dick’s facial features turned more angular, his muscles filling out as he grew into the size he was meant to be, and his blue eyes were sharper than ever. He’d stopped using hair gels the way he did when he was a rebellious teen, instead opting to grow his hair out and allowing it to drape over his shoulders. It framed and highlighted the features on Dick’s face. Renegade was nothing short of the pinnacle of male beauty.

And if Dick denied that there had not been at least a little spark between him and Blackfire, he’d be lying.

Dick had been a teenager once, after all, and his actions had been dictated by passion and hormones rather than reason. He was popular among girls, and Komand’r wasn’t more immune to his charms than the average earthling girl. Kom was the older sister who always took what belonged to her sibling, and Dick knew it didn’t exclude _him._ If the sixteen-year-old Dick could do it, then it was even less of a challenge for him now.

The idea of having to seduce Kori’s murderer alone disgusted Dick. But it was never going to deter him. Dick had trained to suppress his emotions, and it wasn’t hard at all to put himself under the guise of The Golden Boy again. If this was what it took to destroy Komand’r, then Dick was willing to go through with it.

After all, even the greatest men of history had made a mistake or two.

When he went to the bar where Kom frequented, Dick didn’t wear a mask or his uniform. He dressed elegantly but unembellished, wearing a classy cologne that he would not have worn otherwise. Dick leaned on the bar and pretended that his meeting with that dazzling exotic beauty with black hair and unnatural green eyes was all a coincidence. Nothing was by accident.

She hardly changed—Dick thought when he laid his eyes on the alien princess for the first time in four years. She looked just as beautiful, and her soul was just as rotten as it had been. 

If one could forgo the color of her hair, Kom looked almost identical to Kori. Everything (her facial features, her voice, and the way she carried herself) reminded Dick of his lost love. Yet this person was but a serpent wearing his lover’s shell.

She was anything but Starfire. It made things that much simpler.

Kom invited Dick to board her private yacht and took him to the island she was residing. Before they could even enter the cottage, they kissed like animals—like a pair of teenagers who couldn’t keep their hands off of each other.

“Oh, Richard, always such a great kisser,” Komand’r said, pulling Dick into her spacious bedroom. “Now, put down those rackets of yours and _ravish_ me.”

Dick did. He put down the sports bag and laid Kom flat on the bed, immediately taking the opportunity to mouth at the smooth skin on her neck. 

Kom held Dick’s face between her long, manicured fingers and pecked on his cheek. She slid downward until she found his mouth and took his lips into her own, her pearly teeth gently grinding them between them.

“I just knew you’d come around someday,” Kom said, the same time Dick picked her up and placed her on his lap. Kom clamped Dick’s waist between her long legs, using her knees to grind down on his half-hard cock.

It didn’t take that much to get Dick fully hard. It was easier than he could have ever predicted. It turned out that hatred alone was passionate enough to get his gears turning.

Dick stroked Kom’s thighs, lifting the hem of her sequined dress and exploring her body in an almost playful way. Kom’s head dropped on Dick’s shoulder, her long, black hair smooth like silk. It felt so familiar, yet so foreign. 

She said, “You deserve a real woman, Richard.” 

Dick didn't want to answer that, didn’t want to listen to her talk about Kori. So he took the words out of her by sealing them with a fervent kiss.

It excited Dick when he situated himself between Kom’s legs; her straddling his waist as he fucked into her like an animal. It wasn’t just hatred that drove him, but his expectancy of the future. He imagined her death, her green eyes tarnished, her black hair stained with blood. Dick took her over and over until she was more than satisfied with him and he was more ravenous than ever. 

“What have you been doing all these years during my absence, Boy Wonder?” 

By the time it was finally over, Kom leaned against the head of the bed contently, her sweat-soaked hair pulled to one side of her neck. Dick’s head was resting on her lap as she combed through his long hair with her slender fingers. One might even mistake them for a loving couple if one didn’t know any better.

Dick looked up and beamed at her while wearing his iconic Golden Boy smirk. But his heart was stone cold.

“Oh, you know, seeking mentors and exploring myself,” he said.

“Did you end up finding yourself, then?” Kom asked.

Dick hummed softly.

Kom tried to pull her leg out from under his head, so Dick shifted into a sitting position to let her off the bed. The Tamaranean princess covered her gleaming body in a silk robe, walked up to the veranda, and took a bottle of beer from the ice bucket. She pried the cap off and took a long swig.

“Do you want a bottle?” She asked.

Dick shook his head. No point in drinking anymore.

“Your call,” Kom said, shrugging.

Placing down the bottle, Kom walked all the way to the door of the bedroom. She picked up the racket bag that Dick had carried, unzipping it.

There was no racket inside, only a well-polished Katana sword that had accompanied Dick for four years.

There was no surprise on Kom’s face when she turned around, sword in hand.

“It looks like you’ve discovered yourself pretty well,” she said. “You break my heart, Richard.” Staring at the blade, Kom’s eyes shined with boldness. “I let you ride my yacht and invited you into my house, yet you repay me by bringing this. Are you really prepared to assassinate a queen?”

One arm over his knee, Dick sat on the bed nonchalantly, yet his eyes were cold.

“Queen? My dear, you are just a fugitive seeking refuge on earth.”

“This fugitive has brought enough guards to protect her,” Kom sneered. “Do you think I was going to let my sister’s ex near me with no precautions? If that’s what you think, _Renegade,_ then you don't know your enemy at all.” 

Dick sat quietly, his sight never leaving her.

“Then, Your Majesty,” he mocked, “do you think _I_ would have let my target pick up my weapon with no precautions?” 

Kom’s brows knitted in confusion, her confident expression suddenly tinged with a slight edge of hesitation. She didn’t have to wait too long to understand what he meant.

The sound of fighting outside was quick and quiet—a necessary skill for them as mercenaries. Dick heard bodies being hit outside of the door, the sound of weapons piercing flesh, groans, grunts, and the sound of bodies hitting the ground. 

The door burst open.

It was a Tamaranean with a red beard that walked in. He wiped the blood from his cheek and flung his hand; the blood falling off his fingertips like beads. The starbolt gathering in Kom’s hand died down as she looked at her guard with slight confusion. The bearded alien then raised his head and Dick had his confirmation. They were not Tamaranean-green.

Possessing Blackfire’s body couldn't be an easier task for Joseph. All it took was for green eyes meeting green eyes, and it took no more than a second for Komand’r to fall under Jericho’s control.

The red-bearded alien fell, and Kom stood trembling in place. She screamed, shrieking madly from the prison of her own body.

“Well done, Jericho,” Dick said, “take her outside.”

It didn’t matter how much Kom screamed, she couldn’t do a damn thing when Joey walked with her body onto the veranda and passed the rails to stand on the grass, not far from the band of trees just outside of the house. It was easier to do it outside. It’d be easier for them to cover their trail there. 

The rest of Dick's team was already waiting outside. Rose walked out of the woods, her face under her cowl and the blade of her sword stained with alien blood. Tara followed her, her hands raised, extracting huge rocks from the island, and piled them onto Kom’s body.

Kom’s legs were dragged underground, hidden under nearly a hundred tons of stones and mud, while Tara sealed her torso in a pillar of stone with an equal mass. Tara's fingers balled up and compressed the rocks; the pressure she was using was so great it would easily cause the death of a normal human. The alien princess was effectively imprisoned under all that weight; she was helpless, even with her Tamaranean strength. 

Komand’r shouted, threats and profanity pouring out of her mouth.

Joey finally let go. He retreated, his body appearing beside Rose, and his short blond hair swayed a little.

Free of Joey’s control, Kom struggled under the rocks. 

Dick got up from the bed naked. Taking a towel draped on the bathroom door handle, he wrapped it around his waist. 

“The Teen Titans is a thing of the past,” he said, walking to the veranda. “Blackfire, allow me to introduce my new team—Defiance—to you.”

Kom’s face whipped towards him. She snapped her teeth at him and cursed, sounding not unlike a trapped beast. 

Dick addressed his teammates first.

“Did you dispatch the others on the island?” He asked.

“Of course,” Rose replied casually, as though bringing down these superhuman aliens wasn’t a feat to accomplish. She acted as if she was indifferent, but Dick could hear the excitement seeping through the words. None of the smaller missions they had gone on was a match for this. After the battle Rose had fought, her blood was still bubbling in her veins, her face flushing with excitement.

“Good.”

Dick turned his head and watched as the sudden realization climbed onto Kom’s face before enmity took over. If Tara hadn’t restrained her, Dick was certain that Komand’r would be jumping onto him now in a fight to the death.

“It's over, Your Highness,” Dick said mockingly and smiled.

“Let go of me, you coward,” Kom said through clenched teeth. “You cheating piece of trash—don’t you dare face me head-on?”

“Do you think you deserve a fair fight after what you had done?” Dick asked rhetorically.

Dick had thought about this. He’d spent hours upon hours in the past few years thinking about the conversation between them when he’d finally faced Kori’s murderer. But the truth was, nothing Dick could ever say could express the loathing and the abhorrence Dick felt. Nothing could make her feel the pain he went through. To make Komand’r understand why she had to die.

“You have been living in your sister’s shadow since she was born, Your Royal Highness,” Dick said instead, with a casual tone of mockery. “Betraying Tamaran and enslaving your own sister. These were but your wounded heart crying out. It was why you killed her. You are just a weeping child crying for justice.”

Kom’s eyes narrowed, agitation surrounding her like smoke.

“Who are you to lecture me, peasant?” She bit out, “I’ve gotten to where I am today through my own strength. My little sister had always been my lesser.”

“Lying to yourself, princess,” Dick said. “It has always been like this with you. The fact you had to kill Koriand’r proved you didn’t actually believe that. You were never your sister’s better… not in any fair fight. Becoming a cheater was the only way you could’ve defeated her—the only way you could’ve killed her. You would’ve never bettered her if she had lived. You’ve known this all along… you just couldn’t have anyone else know about it.”

As he spoke, Dick clutched onto the railing of the veranda and jumped over it. He paced around Kom in a circle as she turned her head to accommodate his position. Dick took notice of Kom’s expressions—the loathing in the beginning slowly evolving into a kind of panic, one that’s only shown when one’s deepest secret was laid bare to the world. 

“Shut your mouth.”

“Your cruelty was nothing but a cover-up for your inferiority complex.” Ignoring her, Dick continued, “I should pity you, actually. You _are_ rather pitiful. You’ve been chasing after your sister’s shadow all your life, _Your Majesty,_ and you couldn’t escape this fate even after her death. And now, you’re going to die—because Kori is missed by her friends and allies—and you will not.”

Dick stopped, standing in the clearing just in front of the stone pillar where Komand’r was encased in. Each word was practiced and carefully considered. Every bit of venom dripping off of Dick’s tongue was meant to shatter Kom’s armor of defence.

“I don't need to be missed,” Kom said like a rat making its last struggles before it was killed by the snake, “I only need others to fear me.”

Dick’s eyes narrow, his smirk completely gone.

“Then, please look at us,” Dick said, “and tell me, _Your Royal Highness:_ do we look like we fear you?”

Silence fell over the group. Dick could read clearly on the alien princess’ face that her defence had been breached. Komand’r was disarmed, her despair and shock written clear on her face. He could kill her now. 

“You are a horrible person, Blackfire,” Dick said, “and you will never leave the earth alive.”

The next moment passed way too fast. One second Dick was standing upright in front of her, and the next his hand was locked tightly onto Kom’s exposed neck.

The alien looked at him with widened eyes, and Dick could see the undeniable fear behind the anger in her eyes.

“Look at my face,” Dick whispered, “I want you to remember who killed you. I am Dick Grayson. I am executing you because of Starfire. Komand’r, it's time for you to pay for your sister's death.”

Dick had been waiting for this moment. Through the spaces between his fingers, Dick could see how Kom’s skin was congested with pressure. He felt under his finger a body that had become as soft and fragile as a human; he heard the sound of her choking as suffocation slowly ate her. This was exactly what Dick had wanted. All Dick ever wanted was to experience the course of her death; to watch as her life slowly drained away from her.

There were some sounds of clothes shuffling beside Dick. He knew it was Joey turning his body away to avoid bearing witness to the princess’ death. His friend had always been such a gentle soul.

“Do you need your sword?” Rose suddenly piped up. “Or maybe mine?”

Dick didn’t turn his head to look at her. He was staring intently at the woman, slowly suffocating by his hand. 

“She’s unworthy,” he said.

Rose hummed in understanding.

She walked up to the veranda and reached into the ice bucket, picking up the ice pick by the handle. She tossed it Dick’s way.

Dick reached out and caught it. 

He looked down and into the eyes of the woman, completely at his mercy.

Kom’s face was turning blue—Dick didn't know a Tamaranean’s face could even change colors from the lack of oxygen. If they had eye whites, then Dick was sure he’d see her rolling hers up. Kom’s mouth dropped open, her tongue rolling out. Dick wanted to know what it was like to kill her; wanted to feel the resistance her skull gave when he stabbed through it, and the sudden easing of pressure when the pick bypassed bone and pierced into her brain.

The ice pick broke into Kom’s temple.

The moment passed quickly, but Dick made it count. He made sure to take note of the sensation when he plunged it through. His knuckles turned white, his hand held the tool so tight that his fist shook.

Kom’s body stopped moving. Only her lips still twitched, her eyes widening and protruding out of her skull. The vessels in her eyes would be bulging if Tamaraneans had eye whites. Dick had to resort to satisfy himself by seeing the way her lips hung open in a silent scream, as if trying to spit out something that was lodged in her throat. Dick saw blood slowly spill out from behind Kom’s eyeball. At first it was just a few drops, converging into a small stream before it finally gathered into a surging spring. Blood poured out of Kom’s eyes like tears flowing down the skin of her cheek.

Dick pushed the pick into the deepest parts of Kom’s brain until the wooden handle rested against her temple. Dick finally let go. He watched silently Kom’s fearful eyes became dull, her lid becoming less strained as her muscles relaxed. Dick watched as the expression on Kom’s face turned lifeless, her muscles slackened, and even her skin tone became grayish.

Dick had to use his free hand to fix the skull in place to pull the ice pick out. He didn't have to pluck it out, but he wanted the sensation. It was worth it. Dick could feel the friction and vibration scraping over the pick with his palms and fingertips, and he was rewarded with the sight of blood flowing out of the narrow wound like a fountain. 

It’s a little disappointing. That the alien’s blood was red. If no one told him, Dick might have guessed that someone as wicked as Blackfire was would bleed out coal.

Dick couldn’t remember much about the trip after that, other than his team had worked to clean up the evidence. Tara restored the landform almost flawlessly before they moved Kom's body back to the house. There was no DNA evidence to clean up, no fingerprints to wipe off. Dick had taken everything into consideration. He left no evidence at all that might have led to him.

Dick must have changed back to his clothes and got on the airship with the rest of the team. Thinking back, Dick didn't remember paying attention to how his companions acted during that time, and if they said anything to him, he didn’t remember anything.

Slade understood how important it was for Dick to accomplish this. He said nothing after they returned except for one or two words of congratulation, nor did he request Dick for a mission report as he usually did.

After a busy night, almost everyone excused themselves to retire to their rooms. When Dick finally snapped back to reality, he and Tara were the only two still lounging around in the living room.

Tara stood by the bar as she took off one of her wrist guards, pouring herself a glass of spiced rum.

“Job well done, big guy.” She winked.

Dick said nothing. He simply walked forward and loomed over her petite figure. Trapping Tara in his arms, Dick bent down to capture her soft lips.

Tara was just as good a kisser like Dick was, and her lips still had the sweet taste of rum on them. They fought each other, undressed like brutes, and made love right in the living room. Over and over again, the flames of desire mixed with the temptation of the emptiness, filling Dick with inexhaustible energy. He kept taking it out on her and let their uniforms scatter all over the place; until the smell of sex found its way to the sofa, the coffee table, the bar, and the floor.

Nothing about this was right. It was misplaced in every which way. There was no love between them; the origins of their passion weren't even directed at each other. It was exactly the misplacement of their lust that had allowed them to find each other.

Dick needed touch; needed to feel the lips, body, and the love from someone real. He eagerly yearned for the heat of another; yearned for it to drive away the melancholy and desolation he felt after accomplishing his life's goal. He needed passion and anarchy to dissolve the exhaustion after playing a fake part; needed someone to purify the echoes of Blackfire from his senses. It reminded him too much of Kori.

The ghost of the Teen Titans hung between them. Their similar pains passed between them silently through the sweat and the moans.

Dick thought about Starfire. He was certain that, as Tara took it from him, she was thinking about Beast Boy, too… thinking about Garfield.

+++ 

In retrospect, the first few years weren’t unlike an epic quest. In the story, the young hero’s beautiful lover had died, and Dick—the protagonist of the story, her beloved—went on a quest of vengeance for his lost love. However, epics always chose to finish at the most satisfying chapter, yet reality had to continue on.

After Kori was avenged, Dick gained peace for about a week. 

Dick was finally able to relax a little from the endless training. He started to bond more with his team, even going to the mall for nothing other than to hang out, eating pizza and sushi in restaurants or watching movies. Dick couldn’t remember the last time he had relaxed like this since he left the Titans.

Slade had multiple bases of operation, and his newest contract usually dictated which one they would reside in for the next month or so. His most frequented ones all had spacious living rooms not dissimilar to the one in Titans' Tower.

When Slade went out on alone-missions, the children would be left to their own devices. In addition to their daily training sessions, the team usually gathered in the living room and turned up the music as they partied or played against each other on the gaming console, just like ordinary teenagers would. Sometimes it was too easy to forget that they were a group of mercenaries specialized in taking lives.

It was almost like the return of the Teen Titans—they were a similar team of youngsters with similar daily bickering. And, similar to before, Dick played both the role of the leader and the mother hen. Other than lacking that big window in the Tower that looked over Jump City, the new place felt very much like home.

If news hadn’t come of the new Robin’s involvement with the Teen Titans, would the illusion of a bright new life still break like it did? 

Dick saw on the news that the Titans were fighting their villain-of-the-week that day on the giant living-room screen. He wasn’t prepared to see the replacement by their side— _Robin,_ dressed in Dick’s colors, fought as Wonder Girl gave him his directions, perfectly in sync with Dick’s former friends. The glass in Dick’s hand shattered. 

It was humiliating, really— _everyone_ was there to see him lose it. Even Slade saw it, and he must not have missed the look of shock on Dick’s face.

In an effort to calm himself and to not cause more harm in his anger, Dick turned and left the room.

His bedroom wasn’t a safe haven for him either. Exactly the opposite.

Dick’s room looked like a madman's workshop. An entire wall was filled with pinned photos of Jason Todd, and as soon as he woke the sleeping computer, the first image that popped up was the long video he edited—the fraud successor flying over Gotham without a care in the world.

It's a miracle that Dick's punch didn’t break through the table. He gritted his teeth, and in that moment, Dick had never felt like pulling off a bird’s wings as much as he did then.

There was a knock on the door. He knew who it was. There was only one person on the team who knocked so politely before entering a room.

“Go away, Joey,” Dick said.

But Joey didn’t give up. So, when Dick heard about the twentieth tap on the door, he finally relented.

Dick sighed, “Come in.”

The knocker opened the door and walked in. Joey's footsteps approached from behind, and he didn’t seem to be bothered at all by the way Dick’s space looked.

Feeling a hand on his shoulder, Dick turned back to look.

 _Are you OK?_ Joey asked in signs. _Pops wanted to know if something was bothering you._

Dick almost laughed at that.

“Of course, Joey,” Dick answered sarcastically. “The kid looks clever enough, and he seems to get along with the Titans. Why would I be mad?” 

Joey didn’t laugh. His green eyes appeared bright even in dim light.

 _Do you miss them?_ Joey signed instead. _The Teen Titans._ He immediately clarified.

Dick hummed. Joey knew the answer, but Dick understood that he was waiting for Dick to say it himself. So he lied: “They are a thing of the past.”

But it was a lie that even Dick couldn’t believe. Dick’s partnership with Deathstroke was solely built upon the goal to avenge Kori. Until now, he’d always had something to strive for. Something that could distract him from other things that were unpleasant. And now that Komand’r had gotten what she deserved, Dick’s eyes were finally clearing on how much his past decision had confined him. 

Dick turned his forearm over and stared at the small scar on it, recalling when he’d dug the tracker out of his arm. He knew he could no longer go back to where he was. Defiance was his team now, not the Titans.

How was that the new Robin could run with his former team, when Dick couldn’t? In just five years, Dick had been forgotten so completely that it’s chilling.

Dick felt Joey’s hand on his shoulder in a sign of support. Dick fell into silence because he didn't need to explain this to his friend. Their understanding of each other had surpassed the need for words in many instances.

Dick had never stopped collecting information on Jason Todd during the years. He’d added everything he had to a computer database, but even just the physical things he kept—newspaper clippings and photos—filled two thick folders to the brim. Joey knew all about this.

Dick knew the kid as well as he knew the members on his own team. He knew Todd's hobbies, the books he liked, how many times he’d been to the hospital due to an injury or an illness, his grades in school, and even who he had been with. His obsession was no longer a secret. Dick even pinned the new Robin’s photo in the center of a target on the wall of the living room. Whenever he’d walked past it Dick would shoot a dart at it. No one would have any question on why he’d lost control today. They’d understood the reason right away.

Dick had never felt so embarrassed in his life.

 _It will be fine,_ Joey assured him. _I’m here for you._

Dick looked up at his friend and managed to make himself smile.

“I know I can count on you, Joey,” he said.

+++ 

_“What do you think, apprentice? Now that you’ve seen him,” Slade said. “Do you like him?”_

_Dick stared at his unconscious successor in silence. The boy who he’d only seen on his screens and clippings now lay in front of him, all flesh and blood. If he hadn’t seen the brat with his own eyes, maybe Dick would even have led himself to believe Jason Todd was nothing but an urban legend that never truly existed._

_But Todd was real. So were the Teen Titans, and so was Dick's loathing._

_“Let him stay,” he said._

_“Find the tracker on him,” Slade instructed, “restrain him before he wakes up. Whatever you plan to do, don’t stain the carpet. We will leave the city tomorrow morning at nine, don’t forget to pack everything that’s yours. If he is still alive by then, you’d better have a plan for him.”_

_Dick stared at Slade as he left, shutting the door behind him. He felt much calmer than he’d thought._

_Dick had promised to himself that he would kill the new Robin on sight if he ever met him. But how could he make good on that promise when the moment finally came? When Dick had spent three whole years obsessed with his replacement, killing him would be like ordering a cake from the pastry only to trample it under his foot as soon as it arrived._

_Dick looked down at Todd's innocent features for a long time before he remembered the phone that he’d forgotten on the table._

_Walking up to it, Dick picked it up and unlocked the screen showing him and a smiling Kori, a little surprised upon seeing five missed messages Joey had sent._

Is pops there yet, Dick?

Is Robin with you?

Don't hurt him, it’s not his fault.

_Then a minute passed, and the messages showed up again:_

Dick?

Are you still there?

_Dick snorted in amusement. He typed in his reply._

I'm back, Joey.

_Not a second had passed before the typing on the other end began. Dick couldn’t help but laugh, thinking the thought of Joey staring at his screen just to wait for his reply._

Dick! You saw him, didn't you? 

_Dick turned back to glance at Robin quickly, paying attention to his yellow cape scattered around him as he lay there, like the wings of a dying bird lying limp on the ground._

Yes, _Dick replied,_ Joey, you did a good job capturing him.

Dick, please calm down and listen to me-

_After these words, Joey typed for quite a long time._

You’ve said it yourself that the Teen Titans were a thing of the past. _His message read,_ Dick, Defiance is your home now. You are Renegade now, and we are all yours.

_Dick's eyebrows furrowed. But Joey wasn’t finished._

Why do you care so much what they think? Do you really care who is wearing the uniform that you yourself had stopped wearing? Dick, please stay in the present. Stay with us. Don’t worry about what the Titans do or don’t do.

_That logical part of Dick wanted to accept these words—wanted to give them a chance. Because he knew Joey's logic wasn’t wrong. But the unpleasant taste of bitterness still settled on his tongue, his anger surging even more than before. Dick had to push down the negative urges in order to reply to Joey’s text._

What do you want, Joey? Tell me what you want me to do.

_There was some silence on the other end. Just a few seconds._

Don't kill him, Dick. The boy is innocent.

He is not innocent. _Dick replied almost as fast._ However, I won’t kill him.

_There was another pause on the other end. Dick could picture Joey thinking before he typed._

… Then what are you planning to do to him? _He asked._

_All kinds of images flashed in Dick's mind. From the image of his replacement with his hands and feet chopped off and his eyes blinded, to him locked deep inside a dungeon until he was forgotten by the world (like Dick was). Dick imagined taking from him—physically and emotionally. Taking from him in all kinds of ways._

I will let you know later, _Dick simply responded like this._

_Joey’s response came quick._

Don’t hurt him, Dick.

I will try, buddy, _Dick replied._ But no promises. The punk asked for it. 

_Having typed that, Dick shut the phone and locked Joey out._

_When Dick returned to Robin, the kid was still unconscious. He looked too innocent, too adorable. It’s so hard to believe he was the one who took away all the things Dick valued most._

_How not to ruin someone with a face so pure?_

_Dick reached out to touch Robin's lips, feeling the softness of it under his pads. His fingers entered between the teeth, feeling the soft tongue, the slippery insides of the cheeks, and the moistness and warmth in the boy's mouth. Before Dick knew it, he was thrusting his fingers in and out of Robin’s mouth。_

_Lewd grunt sounded, and Dick’s own breathing became heavy. He tossed his head back and had to hold down a forbearing moan himself._

_“I decide-” Dick said with a hoarse voice, his fingers sliding out of Robin's mouth with a gurgle, “-to keep you. I want to know what makes Bruce and the Titans like you so much.”_

_Placing his hand back on his thigh, Dick leaned back until his weight was balanced on the balls of his feet._

_“Is it because you have potential? Or that you are fast to adapt?”_

_“Perhaps…” Dick mused, “perhaps, it’s your willpower that attracted them to you? What a cliché to say out loud, don’t you agree?”_

_Dick stretched his arms with one limb under Robin's knee and the other supporting his back. He picked his fraud of a successor off the ground and walked toward the metal shelf he had in the room._

_Even with Robin’s uniform on, Dick still felt the kid’s body temperature seeping through. Not to mention that the boy wore short sleeves. It felt much better than Dick had previously imagined. Dick felt as if he hadn’t encountered this kind of warmth from another human being for a very long time._

_“And you bet I have ways to test your willpower,” Dick said, his lips pressed against Robin’s._

_The corners of Dick’s mouth lifted against the kid’s skin-_

_-“My Little Wing.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we will be going back to the present after this.
> 
> Tell me what you think?
> 
> I've published the Chinese version first and had multiple people comment that the chapter is a little depressing, I guess I didn't find it so because it's been living in my head so it's not news.
> 
> If you made it through this massive chapter even when it doesn't deal with the present, kudos to you! Did it change your view on Dick in this fic a little bit? I want to know!
> 
> Kudos and comments are all very appreciated!

**Author's Note:**

> [My Tumblr](https://sarriathmg.tumblr.com/)   
>  [My Twitter](https://twitter.com/sarriathmg/)
> 
> Please leave a kudos and/or comment if you've read this far and liked it! Check out some of the others in the series, too!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Renegade's Reward](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23891023) by [Sliver_Tail](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sliver_Tail/pseuds/Sliver_Tail)
  * [Renegade *Comic Retelling*](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26188606) by [sarriathmg](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarriathmg/pseuds/sarriathmg)




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